A Moment in Time
by VKPGrimoire
Summary: A series of short backstories on individual characters from the show.
1. Chapter of Contents

**Chapter of Contents**

 **When the Stars Fall - Ser Barristan Selmy** (written by **Will o'the Wisp** ) - I don't think you'll find a better backstory on Ser Barristan and Asha Dayne. Beautifully written. So sweet and so sad. Be sure to look it up!

 **The Lord and His Boy** \- **Roose Bolton -** Roose gets to learn a little bit more of his son's peculiar traits.

 **A Lady in Waiting** - **Lyanna Stark -** Lyanna waits under the pale moon's light. A sinister grin attends her, but a great hope approaches.

 **An Ocean's Roar** \- **Tywin Lannister -** How loss tears a man apart and how love saves a life.

 **Matters of the Heart** \- **Tyrion Lannister -** A telling of Tyrion's and Tysha's romance.

 **To Love and Forgive** \- **Jaimie Lannister -** Jaimie feels conflicted after killing King Aerys, but someone comes to visit to remedy him.

 **Robbed Romance** \- **Cersei Lannister -** Cersei's heart didn't only belong to Jaimie. Chasing after silver she finds that a dream is only a dream.

 **The Red Viper** \- **Oberyn Martell -** Oberyn needed to leave Westeros after his sister's departure to Kings Landing. To Essos he sails, to gain a name for himself as well as the skills to win his sister back.

 **A Northern Adventure** \- **Bronn -** Bronn learns how curiosity killed the cat.

 **The Master of Whispers** \- **Varys -** Where did the Spider gain his abilities to become the Master of Whispers?

 **The Three Brothers** **\- Renly Baratheon** \- Renly is forced into a game of swordplay with his brothers. One of the few moments of brotherly love.

 **Something in the Shadows** \- **Stannis Baratheon** \- Stannis waits in the shadows as he holds off the Tyrell's fleet.

 **The Death Knell** \- **Robert Baratheon** \- A war hammer delivers a crushing blow to steel, bone, and rubies.

 **The Ugly Duckling** - **Brienne of Tarth** \- Brienne has always felt like a fish out of water, but a dance turns into a journey of self discovery.

 **Queen of Thorns** - **Olenna Tyrell** \- Margaery had to be destined for so much more than a lady of some household. Enchanted by Margaery's beauty, brains, and cunning Olenna sets out to lay the foundation for Margaery's future.

 **Shadowbinder** \- **Melisandre** ***This is the darkest story in A Moment in Time.*** Melisandre has been kidnapped and brought to Asshai. Lying on the cold floor, she wonders when death will claim her.

 **Waking the Dragon - Daenerys Targaryen** -Dany and her brother are on the run, but Dany needs to run faster to outpace the dragon.

 **Something to Come Home To - Catelyn Stark** \- Catelyn is excited that her husband is coming home from his tour of the north; however, things do not go exactly as planned.

 **Envy - Sansa Stark** \- The Blackfish comes to visit, and he brings gifts from the vale.

 **The Wild Horse - Ayra Stark -** Ayra will never fit in and she knows this, but all she wants is acceptance.

 **In the Absence of Sleep - Rickon Stark** \- Rickon has been keeping the Stark family up at night under mysterious circumstances.

 **Silence in the Godswood - Robert Stark -** Robert is troubled by the silence in the godswood.

 **Fire! - Theon Greyjoy** \- Theon and Jon are holed up in cave.

* * *

 _Author's notes:_

I might take a hiatus since I am completely lost on what to do for Eddard, Jon, and Petyr (I won't feel that my catalog would be complete without them). I don't want to rush and put out something that I'm completely unhappy with. Thank you so much for the reviews, and even if you haven't reviewed thanks for reading my stories! I feel flattered that people would read my ginormous catalogue of characters.

To fellow writers: Lyanna/Rhaegar, Renly, and Stannis seemed to be pretty popular.

My personal favorites: Robbed Romance, The Master of Whispers, The Lord and His Boy, and The Death Knell


	2. The Lord and His Boy - Roose Bolton

The Lord and His Boy - Roose

"That boy…" Roose looked down into the courtyard. A young boy was fending off three boys with a stick. The three boys seemed unnerved despite their advantage. The pale eyes and wide smile took away their courage as they clumsily attacked Ramsay.

Roose could hardly breath as he saw Ramsay sweep between two of the boys. One landed on the floor gripping his groin. Without hesitation, Ramsay pivoted and elbowed another boy in the back. His final opponent swung at him, but Ramsay ducked and pushed all of his weight in his last punch. Roose shut his eyes as he knew that boy would not be getting back up. He heard the boy's bones snap and then a woman's scream. Roose opened his eyes in time to see the boy fall to the floor. The other two boys crawled away and Ramsay would have pursued the boys if only he wasn't interrupted from his fun.

"Boy, come," Roose called out.

Ramsay looked up. Whenever Ramsay smiled at Roose it was without its typical sadistic quality. He was hit with a mild sense of pity for this boy he would never love as his own. He could hear the hurried and excited steps from the stairwell suddenly slow down. The boy tried to breath calmly and walked with composure. _He tries too hard._

"Tell me, boy. What were you doing with those boys?"

Ramsay's wide eyes looked up at him with joy from being recognized. "They had insulted me, my lord."

Roose's hand hit the boy hard across the face. "You had killed my smith's son who happened to also be his apprentice. Do you know how valuable a good smith is?"

Ramsay got up and put his hands behind his back. He resumed his previous rigid stance without wiping the blood off of his face. "No, I do not, my lord."

Roose relaxed his shoulders. The boy may be a good warrior some day, maybe even commander with the proper training; but still the boy had many unnerving qualities.

"How old are you child?"

"I am seven, my lord."

Roose nodded. It had been quite a while since he last saw Ramsay's mother. The last time she had tried to kill him, but treachery was always responded in kind. The boy grew up healthy despite having only a maimed mother to watch over him.

"Walk with me."

Ramsay couldn't hold his joyful gasp. Roose turned around to hide his smirk. The boy admired him so much. "Tell me boy, what is it about the Dreadfort that draws you here. I had thought I had told you to never come back."

"I wish to serve you my lord," Ramsay said somewhat quietly.

"By poisoning my pregnant wife," Roose asked. Ramsay was quiet but didn't run. Roose stopped and looked down at the courtyard again. A woman was holding the dead boy tightly in her arms.

"Come here boy." Roose said. Ramsay obediently came to Roose's side. Roose picked Ramsay up and had him stand on the wall so he could see what he was looking at.

"If you wish to serve me, you must serve them."

Ramsay tilted his head trying to process what he was saying to him.

"In order to be a good lord, you must have the faith of your people. To have the faith of your people there must be a relative amount of peace. By killing that boy, you have destroyed that peace and the loyalty of my smith."

There was no compassion in the boy's face, but only self pity. Roose's arm steadily raised and his hand was ready to push the boy off the wall when Ramsay chimed, "I know! I'll go and apologize!"

Ramsay jumped down and ran for the stairs. Roose looked on and was shocked to notice that he was smiling at the boy. _He has a strange hold on me._ _Perhaps I'll let him live a little while longer._


	3. A Lady in Waiting - Lyanna Stark

A Lady in Waiting - Lyanna Stark

Lyanna's heart raced as she waited in the pale moonlight. She wondered what it was that she was doing. Her father would be a lost cause, but would her brothers hate her for leaving them behind? Petyr looked at her from the shadows. The boy was young, but there was something about him that made her feel uneasy.

"Why do you help me," she asked while staring at the river.

"I've been a long time admirer of Prince Rhaegar. I hope that he would honor me a place in the palace some day," Petyr said slyly.

"The Riverlands are a pretty place. Why would you want to leave it?"

Petyr was quiet for a moment, but then he stepped into the moonlight. "Yes, Riverrun is beautiful, but I am only a stranger here. I've heard that in the capital all sorts of people live there. Would I be a stranger if I lived amongst the strange?"

Lyanna raised her eyebrow. "But you love the Tully sisters. Won't you miss them?"

Petyr nodded. "Aye, I would. However, if I can make myself into an honorable man… a man with wealth and means, maybe they would no longer see me as something to pity."

Lyanna nodded. "That _is_ something to strive for." Lyanna returned back to her pacing. "What is it about Rhaegar that you admire?"

"My lady?" Petyr seemed taken aback, but then smiled politely. "If I could be reborn as any man, it would be him. He has the respect of everyone that meets him and of course having some of his charms would be a blessing as well… Might I ask what it is that you admire about him?"

Lyanna's heart thundered. She didn't know. She had only met him a few times and even those times were brief. She would be leaving a man that she had been betrothed to, a man that she had known since she was younger for a stranger that she barely knows.

"Tell me Lyanna, what is it that you feel right now as you see him approaching?"

Lyanna's head snapped up to see Rhaegar galloping towards her at a furious speed.

"Awe."


	4. An Ocean's Roar - Tywin Lannister

An Ocean's Roar - Tywin Lanister

Tywin looked down to see the mourners of Casterly Rock. It was the biggest procession Casterly Rock had ever seen, and that was the way it had to be. Tywinn looked away and stared off into the ocean's horizon. He had half a mind to carry Joanna's body onto his ship and sail out to the farthest reaches of the Sunset Sea. Once his supplies ran out he would torch the ship with all that it carried, but a gentle tug reminded him of why he couldn't.

Jaime… or perhaps it was Cersei, looked up at him with their wide eyes. "Father, now that mother is gone, who will take care of our little brother?"

Tywin's eyes flashed to the crib that held Tyrion. Tyrion slept peacefully despite murdering his mother just two days before.

"Father," Jaime persisted.

Tywin looked at Jaime. "Do you consider… Do you consider what lies in that crib to be your brother?"

Jaime looked at his father curiously. "Well, what else would he be?"

Tywin nodded and waved his son to leave.

The sunlight was quickly fading and the little lights down below began to pop up like stars. Each mourner lit a candle and placed them on little toy boats that would float off into the strong currents. Tywin felt something like tears slowly dripping down his face. After slamming his hands down on the balcony he breathed deeply. He stood up straight and went to the crib that held the murderer.

It had been crying for what seemed to be an eternity for him. The ridiculously large head, it's cunning eyes, it's absurd shape. _This is NOT a Lannister!_ He picked up the baby who suddenly stopped crying and reached out to him. Tywin sneered with disgust and brought the baby close to the balcony. He wanted the baby to see what fate awaited him.

"Do you see that great darkness churning below us? That is my heart, and it is in my heart where you will live. May that damned Drowned God of the Greyjoy's carry you away… Away from me, from Jaime, from Cersei, and Joanna…" He held Tyrion closely against his chest.

He opened the door and waived his entourage away. Slowly, he walked down the steps and down to the rocky waterfront. Tyrion wailed as his father placed him down onto a rock.

"Father! I thought you had said that there is nothing more important than family!"

Tywin shut his eyes. The boy had followed him. Tywin pointed at Tyrion, "this monster killed your mother! You would call him family?"

"He's not a monster! Was mother a monster? How can a monster be pulled from mother?" Jaime fell to the ground and he looked up at his father. "Truly father, is this what mother would have wanted? Would she have wanted you to kill Tyrion if she were still alive?"

Tywin knew the answer, but he wasn't strong enough to carry Joanna's wishes.

"Like it or not father, he is _my_ brother! He is _your_ son, and he is _mother's_ son! You would deny her the life of my brother despite mother's sacrifice?"

Tywin sat down next to Tyrion. He ran his hand through his hair to hide his face. After a moment he took Tyrion in his arms again.

"I will never love him," Tywin said looking at Jaime.

Jaime was clearly relieved. He smiled warmly as he wiped his face. "I think I can compensate for that."


	5. Matters of the Heart (Part 1) - Tyrion L

Tyrion's fingers dug into the dirt as he tried to climb after Jaime.

"Come on little brother! You'll be the tallest man in all of Westeros if you can just get up here." Jaime's bright white teeth and charming smile looked down at him.

"I'm not Cersie. You won't win me over with your silly smile. Besides, I wouldn't quite call myself a man yet."

"My smiles don't always work on Cersie," Jaime said as he bent down to help his brother up.

"Well the sun has risen as it has every day since my first name day. Why are we here?" Tyrion asked as the sun greeted Casterly Rock.

"We're taking turns. You do something for me, and I'll do something for you. When the sun is full up we'll head back down and do something you want to do."

Tyrion shook his head as he pulled himself up. "What will I do when you leave for Kings Landing? Cersei has made certain that nobody will talk to me. I'll be all alone."

"Well you have your books."

Tyrion chortled. "Who needs company when you have books?"

Jamie sat down and leaned against a rock. "We're here to enjoy our time together. I'll be leaving in a few months. Why not make the best of it?"

"I'll hear all about you, and you will be having the time of your life…" "I'll keep in touch little brother."

"I'm sure you will." Tyrion turned to look at the space below him. He could hardly admire the view when he knew that although his brother meant well he really didn't expect him to keep in touch. There would be too much to do in Kingslanding that he wouldn't be able to blame him.

"You said I would be the tallest man in Westeros."

"Aren't you?" Jaime laughed and looked up at Tyrion.

"Well you're here so I couldn't possibly be the tallest." Tyrion turned to climb even further.

"Tyrion, don't be an idiot! I wouldn't even make that climb," Jaime snapped as he pulled his brother away. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "You've got to promise me you won't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"I'm only human Jaime."

"Tyrion, really!"

Tyrion rolled his eyes in surrender. "I promise not to kill myself if that is what you are trying to say."

Jaime seemed satisfied. "Let's make the climb down."

"But the sun hasn't finished."

"It will be by the time we get down there. What should we do next?"

"Let's go for a ride. Let the wind whip our face and sober us up a bit."

"Sounds like a plan," Jaime said eagerly.

They rode out of their craggy home to the outskirts of Lannisport. The sombre mood of winter was in the air, but it truly was the best time for a ride. It was neither too hot nor too cold. The day's light wasn't too harsh leaving the countryside to shine in all of its vibrancy, and the smell of the air was just that much sweeter.

They took a left at the fork of the road, but no sooner had they done so Tyrion noticed Jaime slowing down. If they had made a right they would've stumbled on some men struggling with something on the ground. Jaime flicked his wrists and charged fully towards the men. Tyrion cocked his head and followed after.

Jaime pulled out his sword and swiped at one of the men. Tyrion approached the sight where the men once stood. Bright blue eyes stared back at him through the mass of black hair. "Are you hurt," Tyrion asked.

"No… no… my lord," She stammered.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

She folded her arms around her legs. "I was looking for work when they had attacked me."

"But where is your father and mother?"

"They're dead."

Tyrion drew in a breath and then he heard her sob uncontrollably.

"When was the last time you've eaten?"  
From what he could understand between the sobs was that she didn't know.

"If you would like, I can take you to the best tavern in all of Lannisport. They serve the best suckling pig that I know of. Not even our cooks have learned to cook like this tavern."

She seemed to calm down a little. "I would like that very much my lord," she said without looking at him. She was exhausted with bruises and dirt covering her face.

"It is good that we have found you. My brother will bring those men to justice and you will have a fully belly. Your luck has changed! May I ask for your name?"

"It's Tysha, my lord."

"Well Tysha, will you help me back up into my saddle? I unfortunately have a bit of a disability."

"Certainly, my lord," she said in shock as she helped him up.

"Are you able to climb up? We would get there much faster if you'd ride with me."

Tysha looked up at him with shock, but then smiled warmly with a nod. Tyrion's face flushed deeply, and he could hardly breath once her arms were wrapped around him. Robotically, he whipped the rains and they took a steady pace to Lannisport.

"My lord, might I ask who it is that I have to thank for their kindness?"

"What," Tyrion gasped. "It's Tyrion, my lady."

She giggled. "I am no lady. My father was only a crofter."

"I didn't mean to offend…"

"No," Tysha laughed warmly. "No, I just didn't think I was special enough to be called a lady."

"You shouldn't underestimate yourself." Tyrion grimaced as he noticed that Lannisport was only a few meters away. "Time does fly doesn't it," Tyrion said sullenly.

"You do not have to buy me dinner my lord. I'm grateful to you and your brother for saving me and for you bringing me here…" He felt Tysha shift to dismount.

"No! I just wished the journey wasn't so short is all. Please let me buy you dinner!" Tyrion wished he could see her face, to know what she was thinking.

"I would be honored my lord," she said softly after a while.  
Everyone always looked at him whenever he went into town, but instead of covert mockery it was with shock.

"Why do they look at us?"

"Because I am famous. I am called the Imp here."

"Well that's not very nice!"

"What is wrong with it? Having a pet name is a sign of affection."

"Is it really my lord?" Tysha seemed to wonder at this, and then finally said. "Well if I were them, I'd come up with a much more flattering name for you." Tyrion flushed again. "My lord, we have stopped."

"What? Oh!" His horse was suspiciously clever and had ridden itself in front of the famed tavern. As always, it was filled with boisterous clientele. "Wait here," Tyrion winked and entered into the cavern.

Tyrion slid two gold dragons to the bartender. "A private table for two."

"I'll never understand why Lord Jaime needs to be so shy! How about you sit with us in public and the meal will be on us."

Tyrion laughed. "Don't let father hear about your offer. He thinks charity is an insult, but I think I should tell you that I don't have the honor of my brother's company."

"Oh?" The bartender looked confused and then looked out the window. A wide smile swept his face. "A pleasure as always my lord," the bartender said enthusiastically. He went to the back room and came back with a very amused man and woman. They nodded at Tyrion and left the tavern.

"Stall her a bit so I can clean up back there." He turned away. "Oli! Help me with the dishes in the back."

Tyrion was flattered by the bartender's care to attention. He went outside to bring Tysha inside. She hid behind him looking at the others with fear.

"You are in good hands Lady Tysha. No harm will come to you, you have my word."

The bartender came back out. "May I escort you to your table?"


	6. Matters of the Heart (Part 2) - Tyrion L

They passed many ornate cubicles and got to the end where the doors were opened. The cutout doors only showed a glimpse of what was beyond them once they were shut. Bread, olive oil, and wine were left on the table for them.

"Oli will come back for your order."

"But we already know what we want! Suckling pig, potatoes, asparagus… anything that pops into your mind, my lady?"

She shook her head as she tried to hide her laughter. "Now, what is so funny?"

"Just the way you carry on my lord! You almost act as if you own the place."

"Well don't I look important?" Tyrion laughed as he posed. Then the thought dawned on him. She didn't know who he was.

"Where are you from… Tysha?"

"Well," she said shyly. "I'm actually from Riverrun, but we left…" Her voice faded sorrowfully.

Tyrion didn't like where this was going. "Bah! Why talk of the past? What sort of work have you come here for?"

"… I had wanted to work at a mill. I've heard that they pay well."

Tyrion tried to hide his underwhelmed expression.

"Well it's not like some people were born with silver spoons in their mouth," Tysha grumbled. "Besides, I don't know what I'm fit for."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."

"No, my lord…"

"Please call me Tyrion."

She looked a little confused as she spoke his name. "Tyrion… I… have never been in the presence of a lord. In fact, the reason why we left was because of a lord." Tears welled up in her eyes. She took the goblet and drank thirstily. "I don't know why, but I feel even thirstier than before… Maybe I've been cursed!"

"No, no!" Tyrion tried to hold his smirk. "Wine doesn't cure thirst. It's to help you relax… or so I've been told…" Tyrion was always denied wine at home. Tyrion sipped at the wine and found that he liked it. "This is very good! This is the first time I've had wine…"

He looked at Tysha whose cheeks were red. A silly smile was on her lips. "This is my first time too my lord!"

"Perhaps you should put that to the side. You won't be able to enjoy your meal…"

Tysha made a silly sound and laughed. "But I like this feeling. You should try it too. You feel like a wave, but as light as a feather."

Tyrion raised his eyebrow not understanding what Tysha had meant. "Well… Here's to us!" He raised his goblet and drank as much as he could in one gulp. At first, he didn't feel anything, but then he felt a subtle tingling sensation on his face. The rush of warmth came upon him without warning and then he knew what Tysha meant.

"I see what you mean," Tyrion laughed.

In no time at all, their meal was at their table. They erupted in laughter at seeing the pig's face and began to talk about all sorts of things. As they got full, their energy was drained.

After a moment of silence, Tysha mumbled, "I was told men only liked fair-haired women in the Westerlands."

Tyrion stifled his laugh.

"It's not funny!"

"Tysha, men wouldn't even care if you were ugly… sometimes they don't even care if it's a woman or not."

Tysha gazed at Tyrion for a while. "Is this from personal experience?"

Tyrion could hardly breathe from laughing. "No! No! Noooo! I have very simple tastes!"

Tysha nodded her head sadly. "Those men back there would have had me if it weren't for you."

"If it weren't for Jaime," Tyrion corrected. "My brother is the bold chivalric knight, and I am just your humble imp."

"But imps don't comfort women and feed them. I thank you Lord Tyrion, but I'm starting to wonder what it is that makes me deserve all of this."

"… I just don't like people being tortured by others. There is only so much I can do, but I do what I can."

"My father would say that too!" She began to sob uncontrollably.

"Is there not enough gold in Casterly Rock to buy your happiness?"

"Is that all you lords think of? Buying people's happiness? My father didn't have to die… The lord wanted me and was willing to pay him. My father knew what would happen if he refused. So we snuck away in the middle of the night and had decided to come here. He said the lords here only care for women with lighter hair. But on the way here, he died. He pushed himself too hard for me…" Tyrion was helpless as he watched her fall into despair. "So many bad things have happened. Sometimes I think of ways to end myself, but I find myself too afraid to do the job."

Tyrion put down his goblet. "I have lived every day with my father and sister reminding me that I was the cause for my mother's death. Every day people look at me and judge me for not being as tall as them or as good looking as my brother. I have wondered about death too, but now…" Tyrion cautiously gazed at Tysha. "Don't you think that death is so very final? When I look at you Tysha, I realize that _life_ is full of possibilities! Never give up Tysha. You are so much stronger than you realize!"

Tysha nodded, but then slumped over. Tyrion rushed over to see if she was ok, but then heard her snore. "I suppose I can be boring at times." Tyrion sighed and went to look for Oli to help Tysha to one of their beds. He was shocked to see Jaime drinking with other men at the bar.

Jaime raised his glass. "Well?"

"Well? Well, what?"

"Is today the day you become a man?"

"What? No! I wouldn't dream of doing that to Tysha!"

"She has a name!" Jamie took a drink and put it down. "How about this little brother. You have one drink with me before we head back home. I'll have her room paid for the week and you can come by and visit your… _friend_."

Tyrion hated his brother for teasing him at a time like this.

"The sooner you do, the sooner we can get her to the room. She'll be safer there than in the back room."

Tyrion took the mug from Jaime and drunk it down swiftly. He didn't like the taste of it. "What is this," Tyrion grumbled.

"Good! You finished it." Jaime patted him on the back. "I'll go get your girl, drop her off at the room, and we'll go home."

Tyrion looked on at Jaime as he walked past him. A horrible sensation gripped his head as the room began to spin. He could feel himself fall to the floor right before he blacked out.

Tyrion woke up in the warm folds of a comforter. He could lie there all day as he nursed his horrible head ache. He heard a rustle next to him that made him sit upright. Tysha was lying next to him. Tyrion stared at her wondering what was going on. He set aside his hangover as he furiously tried to put together the events that brought him to this point. He looked down and saw he was naked. "Jaime," he hissed as he rushed to put on clothes.

"My lord?"

Tyrion tightened his belt and turned around. "Tysha… this is a joke…" "I am glad that there was a way that I could repay you my lord…" she said sadly.

"No! Not like this! I never meant for this! Tysha, tell me what I need to do. I never meant to hurt you!"

"It is silly to think so my lord. I am a crofter's daughter and you are a lord…" "Tysha! Stop that," Tyrion said sternly. "It is true that I have feelings for you, but I would never use you! This is just a cruel game that Jaime put us through, and I will have him apologize to you."

"My lord I don't need any apologies. I just hope that… will you ever come visit me?" The urgency in her voice and the fear in her eyes caught him off guard.

Tyrion stood silently for a moment. He examined Tysha's face to see if there was any mockery or ill will hidden behind her innocent face.

"Tysha," Tyrion got on his knees. "I would visit you every day until you have gotten bored of me!"

"How can I ever be bored with you?"

"Will you marry me?" Tyrion's eyes nearly popped out. _Why did I say that? She'll laugh at me!_

Tysha's gaping mouth turned into a smile. "Yes."

Tywinn tapped his finger on the desk while his other hand held his head as if he was trying to block the blood from swelling his face.

Tyrion's clumsy footsteps took him out of his trance. Tywin sat back in his chair and he saw that Tyrion knew how much trouble he was in. "I have heard news that you have married a girl…"

Tyrion braced for the terrible Tywin crescendo. "In a barn, with a drunken sept, and swine as your witnesses…" Tyrion closed his eyes again trying to control his fear. The venom in his father's voice pierced his heart.

"I had thought that I'd forgive this insubordination so long as the girl was just that… a girl." He turned his head and shouted, "Jaime!"

Jaime came into the room as if he was marching to war. He stopped and neither looked at Tywin nor Tyrion.

"Should I tell him or should you?"

Jaime shut his eyes for a moment, and reluctantly spoke. "I thought that if I got you to bed a woman you would stop moping around because I'd be leaving you behind. So I hired a whore and some guards to play the whole thing out."

Tyrion grabbed his chair tightly. Jaime's joke was just too much, but then the way he had admitted it… it was as if he didn't care!

"Shall we go have a visit. Let us see what kind of girl Jaime has hired for you."

"I'd rather not," Tyrion said through clenched teeth.

"You would deny your father?" Tywin's hard gaze brought Tyrion out of his chair.

They rode to the cottage that he had bought for her. Tywin brought a small troop of soldiers. Tysha came out, not able to look at anyone in the eye.

"Is it true you were hired by my son, Jaime Lannister, to sleep with my son Tyrion Lannister?"

Tysha shivered as she nodded her head. She was only a shadow

"Please father. Isn't this enough," Tyrion begged. He couldn't bring himself to hate Tysha.

"My son will no longer be needing your services. Today, however, my soldiers will be doing business with you."

Tysha's and Tyrion's eyes widened.

"Father… I'll do anything…"

"Yes, you will do anything. You will stay here and watch your punishment unfold so that I will never hear about you sleeping around with another whore again. You will marry a proper wife that will strengthen our family's name. Do you _understand_?"

Tyrion didn't. All he could do was to obey helplessly and counted down the days when his father and brother would be gone. He no longer needed Jaime's cruel jokes, father's cruel punishments, and Cersie's smug looks. His books would be his only companions.


	7. To Love and Forgive - Jaimie Lannister

To Love and Forgive - Jamie Lannister

Jaime wouldn't leave his room. All day, he would just look out the window. He hardly touched his food, and his strong muscular body was diminishing. He heard the door open. Cersei and his father would constantly nag him to leave his room, but he couldn't hear much of what was said. Their voices were distant and far away.

"Did you hear me?"

He could feel someone pinching the back of his leg.

He turned and then looked down. It was Tryion.

"Tyrion?" Jaime looked at him as if Tyrion was a ghost.

Tyrion looked up at him with a forgiving smile. "Do you know how frightened Cersie and father were? They were so frightened that you'd waste away that they sent for _me_ to come and rescue you. Imagine that!" Tyrion poured them a glass of wine. "Why don't you eat with me? Let's remember old times."

"Old times…" Jaime's smile was weak. "Before I became disenchanted with the world?"

Tyrion smirked and waved his arms. "Welcome to my world, Jaime."

Jaime held up his glass and clumsily clinked his glass against Tyrion's. "They call me the Kingslayer…"

"And what of it? I've been called an Imp for years and look at me! I am wealthier than half of them put together. Besides, isn't that what you are? Putting a sword through the king's back tends to bring about clever names like that."

"What would they have me do? Let him burn Kingslanding to the ground along with everyone else in it?" Jaime sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"I see I've made progress. You wouldn't tell either one of them what had happened in that room. I'm touched. You have to realize Jaime that those people out there don't know what really happened, and, truthfully, they don't care what really happened. Father's snippy behavior as the king's hand and with Gregor Clegane's antics... Well..." Tyrion shrugged.

"Tyrion, do you think that King Aerys should have lived?"

" _No_... I don't think the kingdom would accept an undead king." Tyrion smiled apologetically at seeing Jaime's annoyance. He put his glass down and looked at Jaime with a serious look. "No. I think this rebellion and your actions have actually saved the realm... I don't particularly care for the manner that the family was treated, _but_ it is what it is."

"… He wanted me to bring father's head…"

"Well, _that_ I do blame you for, but I suppose I can forgive you."

Jaime struggled with himself. He already had enough people hating him, but his conscience had been bothering him ever since that day. He had to tell him that it was all a lie. "Tyrion, about Tysha…"

Tyrion waved his hand. "Brother, I have put that behind me. Besides, let us not open up old wounds. You are only recovering from yours just now. In this world, I only have you, Jaime. Whores claim to love me, people who work for me claim to love me, but what they really love is my gold."

"Whenever father threw a tantrum, I knew it was because he had received a letter about your behavior back at Casterly. Despite what has happened, you still do as you please."

"Why not? This is _my_ life. He'll just have to learn to accept it, as he has somewhat learned to accept that he had sired a dwarf."

"Well… now that you are here. What should we do with ourselves?"

Tyrion smirked. "Are you interested in what I have been doing all this time? How about you live like me for a day and see if you can stand living for a bit longer."

"I wouldn't have to walk on my knees would I?"

Tyrion smiled and raised his glass. "That's the spirit, Jaime! We'll have you back to normal in no time."


	8. Robbed Romance - Cersei Lannister

Robbed Romance - Cersei Lannister

Cersei took out the picture she drew a few years ago of her and Rhaegar. Today, she would finally see the dashing hero that she had only a glimpse of at Lannisport. She had prepared, for almost an entire year, on what she'd wear, the hairstyle, the makeup. The one thing that was certain was that she would wear her Lannister red.

It is said that Harrenhal was the mightiest castle in all the realm, but Cersei was less than impressed. It may have been the largest, but in terms of beauty it could not compare to Casterly Rock. A great and tasteless leviathan Cersei sneered at the overly dressed castle. Banners of all the houses, great and small, flew in the wind. More people were in attendance than the tourney that her father held. It was no matter.

She smiled as she looked at the other girls dressed in what they considered their finest. Cersei was quite certain that she would be the one to be named the queen of love and beauty. _I wonder how many girls have won the crown on their debut._ Cersei smiled as she pulled the curtains closed.

She shook Jaime to let him know that they had stopped. Jaime opened the door "If you'll excuse me." Jaimie winked at his father.

"Father, I want to go too," Cersei said eagerly.

Tywin nodded at Jaime to go. Cersei was about to follow when her father muttered, "Not you."

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Couldn't I just dress up as a boy and run around with Jaime?"

"No. It's time for you to accept your role in this world."

"And what role is that," Cersei hissed.

Tywin shut the door and turned to look at his daughter. "You are a _woman_. As such, you will need to behave as the other ladies do. Let men think that the only thing you care about is bringing a child into the world, but you are to keep yourself sharp. Don't let anyone know what it is that you are really thinking." He leaned in closer. " _Don't_ test me!"

Cersei glared at her father's back, but then put on the most charming smile that she could muster as she took his hand to get out of the carriage. "Just like that father?"

"Very good," he said dryly.

"Lady Isabel will take you to your room to rest, and then you two will do whatever it is you ladies do at tourneys." Tywin walked away leaving Cersei crushed. All she wanted was his attention, but if he gave any attention to any of them it was just reserved for Jaime.

 _I'll show you one day._ Cersei went upstairs and changed her clothes. From her window, she saw a group of girls giggling excitedly. Cersei swiftly went down the steps to join them despite hearing Isable protest.

"Excuse me," Cersei chimed. The older girls looked at her with curiosity. "My name is Cersei Lannister." She did an elegant curtsy. "This is my first time at Harrenhal, but I don't know my way around. May I join you?" A dark haired girl with blue eyes stepped forward. "We would be honored to have your company Lady Cersei. My name is Lyanna Stark." The other girls introduced themselves, but she found Lyanna enchanting. "We will be going out into the field to visit my brothers." The chance to bump into Rhaegar excited her all the more. "I would like that very much Lady Stark."

"Please, just call me Lyanna," Lyanna held out her hand.

Cersei took Lyanna's hand and they went out into the field of colorful tents and banners. Lyanna showed Cersei around. Cersei did soak in the information, but her main priority was to find the silver-haired Targaryen of legend.

She noticed that Lyanna had suddenly stopped. "That's my father's man you're kicking!" Cersei covered her mouth as she saw Lyanna charge forward sweeping up a sword. At the corner of her eye she saw something that piqued her interest even more. He had to be Rhaegar. His long silver hair and beguiling smile made Cersei melt, but he wasn't looking at her. He was amused at seeing Lyanna fighting the two men. Everyone was laughing at Lyanna, but Lyanna was too swept up in her fury to notice.

Cersei bit her lip to the point that she could taste her own blood. Lyanna was ruining everything. She huffed and turned around to go back to Harrenhal. She was now seen with that wild woman, and everyone will assume that she was just as wild. Cersei couldn't help but let a few tears roll down her face.

"My lady…"

Cersei stopped and looked up to see a rugged man looking down at her. Cersei suddenly felt afraid. "Forgive me," he bowed. "I don't mean to frighten you. I just would like to walk you back to Harrenhal. A lady shouldn't be walking around the camp alone."

"I'll be fine."

"That might be so my lady, but it would trouble me all the same."

Cersei nodded.

"I'm afraid my sister must have given you a fright."

Cersei's eyes widened. " _Your_ sister?"

"My name is Eddard Stark… I'm Lyanna's older brother."

"Shouldn't you be protecting her?"

Eddard smirked. "I'm afraid those lads will be the ones needing protecting."

"Lord Stark..."

Cersei scowled. It was her father.

"Lord Lannister." Eddard bowed.

"I see you have met my daughter." Tywin looked at Eddard suspiciously.

"Yes, my lord. My sister was showing her the camp grounds, but I'm afraid my sister is occupied at the moment so I thought it would be proper to escort Lady Lannister back to Harrenhal."

Tywin nodded. "I thank you Lord Stark. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"Not an inconvenience at all." Eddard smiled at Tywin and bowed.

Cersei was in awe that he hadn't even given her a second glance. _Do they not recognize my beauty?_

"Come along, Cersei." Tywin called.

* * *

She sat next to her brother who was gabbing away about what he had seen and how unfair it was that he couldn't participate. Cersei smiled occasionally, but her eyes scanned the room. She saw Rhaegar get up and sit on his table and all the room fell silent. Rhaegar played the harp and the tune made Cersei weep. Her brother stifled his laugh as best as he could as he watched her cry.

"It's not funny," Cersei hissed.

"We are in public. Show some respect." Tywin said in a hushed voice.

Men erupted in laughter and Cersei turned to see that wicked girl from the north had spilled wine on a man's head. "She is so wild," Cersei whispered with irritation.

"That is the wolf in her." Tywin looked over at the banner held at the Stark table. Cersei looked again to see if she could see Eddard. He was offering his brother a napkin while trying to hold his laugh.

"Rhaegar, this is a party! It's meant for dancing and laughing. This isn't a time for women's tears," a man shouted.

"Ser Arthur! You would ruin my fun?"

The men laughed.

Rhaegar set aside his harp. "Well? Dance." Rhaegar waved his arms.

Cersei looked over at Rhaegar who continued to eye Lyanna. She then turned to look at Eddard who was being pulled up by his brother to dance with another woman whom he was too shy to even look at.

She glared at him wondering how it was that even the peasant lords of the north did not take any notice of her. She threw her napkin on the table and dismissed herself.

"Cersei," Jaimie hissed.

She hurried into the stairwell trying to fight her tears.

Jaime grabbed her wrist. "Cersei… why are you behaving like this? What has happened?"

Cersei shook him off. "None have taken any notice of me! Am I truly that plain?"

Jaimie stood back and looked at her with a mocking smile. "I can't help you with that Cersei. To me, you are the most…"

Cersei turned around and dodged another wrist grab. "I _want_ to be alone!"

"Cersei," Jaime called out.

Cersei then felt the stairwell grow cold and silent. She slowly turned and at the base of the steps stood Tywin.

Both of them froze as they saw him look at them with a dark expression. Slowly, he climbed the steps and was gone. Lady Isabel walked up to Cersei with her eyes glued to the ground.

"What is it," Cersei asked through clenched teeth.

"Prince Rhaegar is to be wed to the princess of Dorne."

Cersei laughed bitterly and continued to her room where she pulled out the picture she had drawn. She smiled through the tears and wondered if she could charm him away from this mysterious Dornish princess. She would run away with him to some far away place in Essos, or travel the seas like something out of a romantic novel.

She looked up at the moon and shut her eyes. A sardonic smile crept on her face as she ripped the picture to pieces and allowed the winds to sweep away the remnants of her romance.


	9. The Red Viper - Oberyn Martell

The Red Viper - Oberyn Martell

It had been at least two years since Oberyn left Westeros. _Rhaegar Targaryen_. He could tell that the man did not love her the way she should be loved, but what could the mere prince of Dorne do against the mighty Targaryen's and their dragons?

The caravan came to a halt and Oberyn dismounted letting his camel rest at the way station. He pulled out a map to see if he would like to change his route. There were so many places he wanted to see. Once at Yi Ti he would circle back and eventually find himself at the free city of Braavos before he would return home… if he returned home. That was something he would think about later, but for now, he looked forward to their next stop, Meereen…

"Lord Sahi!"

Oberyn's companion was Rahl whom he met Tyrosh. Rahl knew immediately from the look of Oberyn that he was no minor lord of Dorne, and during the trip, he guessed who he was. He wanted to kill Rahl to maintain his secret but he valued the fact that the man was a Braavosi.

"We are changing course for Volantis."

"Why? We'd have to go around Valyria which would take longer."

"There is a slave rebellion in Mantarys that seemed to have spilled over to Meereen. If the rebellion has finished by the time we have circled around Valyria we will go to Meereen otherwise, we go to Astapor.

Oberyn frowned. "I wanted to fight in the pits."

Rahl looked away in disgust. "It is a filthy place my lord. The best place, for a man of your stature, would either be my homeland or Yi Ti. Essos is just a backward wasteland otherwise. In Braavos you would learn combat skills and Yi Ti would be a place where you could learn magic and poison."

" _Magic_ ," Oberyn laughed.

Rahl sat down next to Oberyn. He showed him a unique coin that had a square whole inside of it. "Look at my hands very carefully my lord." Rahl held the coin in one hand and then waved his other hand over it. The coin was gone.

"What did you…" Oberyn shook Rahl's sleeves and then turned his hands over.

"If you really want to know where the coin is my lord, I would have you check your pocket."

Oberyn plunged his hands into his pockets and he felt a coin in his hand. "How did you?"

"There was a man I wanted to kill. My partner and I went to trade our wares at Tyrosh, but he decided that he'd sell me as well. Unfortunately, for the poor bastard, I was born a Braavosi. I had escaped to Yi Ti to learn magic… The bastards wouldn't train me, but I I snuck into a mage's home and learned this trick."

"How could you kill a man with this trick?" Oberyn was well aware of the stereotypical Braavosi flair for exaggeration.

Rahl smirked. "What happens when you are caught with another man's wife's lingerie?"

Oberyn nodded in amusement.

* * *

Arriving at Meereen, Oberyn stomped on the ground in satisfaction. " _This!_ This is where I wanted to be!"

Rahl spat on the ground. "Damn slave cities. I'd burn them to the ground if I could get away with it!"

"Maybe we'll do that when I am done with this place," Oberyn whispered.

"Done granting your love to everyone in the city?"

"A man has to eat and a man has to…"

"Rahl! Is that you?" A stranger's voice called from the crowd.

Rahl froze and scanned the crowd for the owner of the voice.

"Trev?" Rahl looked at a man dressed in flowery silks.

"Don't fret. Our friend had sadly passed away. A runaway knife had sent him on his way." Trev's smile was mesmerizing to Oberyn.

"Trev let me introduce you to Lord Sahi, a minor lord of Dorne."

"The honor is all mine," Oberyn said as he bowed.

"We shall see," Trev smiled flirtatiously. He turned to look at Rahl. "Come home with me. I'm sure you're curious as to how I've gotten these clothes."

Rahl shook his head. "Just so long as my room is far away enough that I wouldn't have to hear you at night."

"I'm currently in the market, so there is no threat of that."

"Please don't be coy with me. I see the way you two look at each other." Rahl and Oberyn followed Trev through the crowded streets. "So what is it that you do that gives you these nice clothes?"

"I work the Pits…"

Rahl roared into laughter. When he was done he wiped his eyes. "Do you even know how to hold a scimitar?"

Trev bowed and smiled gently. He encouraged them to enter through a gate which hid a beautiful courtyard.

Trev smirked and took a few olives from a tree. "I don't fight silly man. I have other men fight for me." He continued into an open living space that had small snacks in individual bowls.

"Then this is fate." Oberyn slapped Rahl on the back. "I wish to fight in the Pits!"

Trev frowned and sat down. "Take off your shirt."

Oberyn quickly threw off his shirt to show off his muscles. "You are a fine specimen, but there isn't a SINGLE scar on you. I don't think you know the nature of these pits. Men and women die in these pits. You won't last for long."

"I challenge one of your men then," Oberyn said fiercely.

"You will have to sacrifice that beautiful body then. There will be blood and scars… possibly a limb. Is it really worth that sacrifice?"

"Yes!"

"Very well, but you will have to wait. There is a fight tomorrow and I need my men in their best condition. You will eat, sleep, and then join me at the pits. You will see what you are up against."

"I can't complain if those are the conditions then," Oberyn smiled. He brushed Trev's hand as he took an olive.

"Good," Trev smirked.

* * *

Oberyn sized up his challenger who was a beast of a man from the southern lands. It had a large girth, but instead of fat the beast seemed to be made of pure muscle. The beast's choice of weapons was a spear and net.

Oberyn parried the attack and swung the hilt end to the ground to help him balance a kick to the knee. He withdrew quickly before it could counter. Oberyn took several paces back. The beast was unfazed by the kick, and Oberyn wondered if he was hurt more than the beast. He would have to rely strictly on his spear. Let it bleed a little before making his finishing move.

Oberyn smiled as he danced towards the beast who looked at him with mild confusion before it took a hard stance. Oberyn waived his spear with fancy movements and then dodged the net that was thrown at him. His blade sliced at the beast's arm, then neck, stomach, and face. Oberyn took a few steps back to examine his work. The beast did bleed, but it looked more angry than tired.

Oberyn could swear the ground shook as it approached him. Oberyn hopped back, keeping in mind that he was getting closer to the wall. He pivoted and sliced the back of the beast's leg. He smiled at realizing he had cut a tendon.

"Finish him!" The crowd cheered.

Oberyn shook his head. "This I cannot do. He is defeated. Why ask for more?"

"It is by law, Sahi," Trev shouted. His hands were clenched in fists and sweat dripped from his forehead. Above, he saw crossbowmen aiming at him, Trev, and Rahl.

Oberyn glared at the presiding court. "Fine, put your bows down." Oberyn approached the beast as he flopped on its back with its arms splayed out. It smiled at him. "I am sorry that I must do this."

"In some lands, this is considered a gift," it said in its foreign tongue. "I have lived in this hell for too long. With my leg no longer useful, I would die by master's hand. Take this life and be at peace."

Oberyn gripped his spear tightly and jammed it down the neck of the southerner. He returned back to his teammates holding back his rage for the crowd, the laws, and the men who oversaw the tournament. He didn't have to wait long until Trev arrived.

Trev slapped Oberyn across the face. "Do you know how dangerous that was? Never mind that your opponent could have taken you at unawares, but to insult the crowd is suicidal! You could have killed us all! You have done well these past few months, and have even started showing signs of becoming a favorite to the crowd. It is for that reason alone that you have been spared. Your popularity is now in the balance."

"We should care about what others think?"

"They _do_ matter. They can ask for mercy or they could plead for your death. Did you not see what had happened to Slog… that man you slew! You may feel confident, but you have placed my men in danger. Your actions reflect on them as well!"

"Then let me take the next fight. Let me gain the crowd's favor."

"That is forbidden. The slavers choose to examine us and they make an agreement on who fights whom," Sorell, a fellow champion said as he put on his helmet.

"Then I am sorry for my actions." Oberyn grasped Sorell's shoulder.

"You should be sorry if I don't come back," Sorell laughed and walked through the gates.

"Sahi…. why do you do this? Why have you come here to fight? You fight with such vigorous determination." Trev seemed to be exhausted from the events.

"I need to become the greatest warrior the world has ever seen… or at least good enough to fool the people of Westeros."

"No one is ever the best. You can be amongst the greatest, but there isn't a superior warrior above all the rest."

"And what about Prince Rhaegar," Oberyn asked darkly.

"To be sure, he is one of the best… otherwise, I wouldn't have heard so much spoken of him in Meereen. I'm sure that Playtos or Lao Ren would give Rhaegar a good run."

"Where do these men live?"

"The last I heard, Playtos followed a very exotic woman to Asshai… a very, very dangerous place. I'm sure we won't be hearing of Playtos anymore. The other is the great general of Yi Ti, Lao Ren."

"Then I must leave this place, and meet with this Lao Ren."

Before Oberyn could go, Trev grabbed his wrist. "You can't. The Meereen guards will kill you. You have been contracted to work the pits for another year and a half."

"I have learned all that I can from here! I can't stay here," Oberyn said impatiently.

"There is still much you could learn from here…" Trev sighed. "There are murmurs of another rebellion coming up. You should leave at that time. Don't come back to us because we won't be here either. Meereen is getting to be too dangerous to live in now."

"Come with me." Oberyn held onto Trev's hand.

"My place is in Braavos. It has always been. Perhaps I will go with you to Yi Ti, but afterward, I will go to Braavos to represent their interests. Slavery must end, and I wish to be a part of that movement that Braavos has started."

Oberyn nodded disappointedly. "Even if it is for a short while, it would be good to have your company."

* * *

A weight hit Oberyn's stomach. Oberyn awoke to see dancing firelight hitting the wall. "It is time Oberyn! We must hurry," whispered Rahl.

Oberyn put the sack of his belongings on the ground and put on a robe.

"Where's Trev?"

"He's downstairs with the others. Yi Ti right? We'll be going there soon," Rahl laughed nervously.

"It must be bad out there."

"Oh it is!" Rahl pointed to a horse by Trev. He looked at Trev who nodded. Rahl opened the gates and rushed back for a horse. Oberyn followed Trev's lead as he circled the courtyard to gain momentum and rushed out into the streets. Oberyn noticed the slaves and soldiers fighting in the streets. The doors were wide open as women and children poured out of the city.

It was an easy enough escape.

"That was too easy," Oberyn shouted.

"Your homeland is at war against the Targaryens, the slaves have taken it as a sign to overthrow their masters! They're putting everything they've got into this rebellion!" Trev shouted back.

Oberyn halted his horse.

"You fool! We can't stay here. The guards could come out and mow us down at any moment," Rahl shouted.

"I need to go home," Oberyn whispered.

Trev rode up to Oberyn and took Oberyn's reigns. "We need to go…"

"I must go back to Westeros."

"For some ungrateful lord," Trev gasped.

"I am that ungrateful lord's brother!"

Trev was only shocked for a moment. "Then we flee to Astapor and we will get you to Dorne."

"How long do you think it took for the news to reach us, my lord? How long do you think it would take for us to reach your homeland? The war could be over by then! Let's all go to Braavos! Leave that life behind!" Rahl pleaded.

"Or maybe we can start moving! It's not safe here," Sorrell grumbled.

"To Astapor!" Oberyn flicked his reigns and charged forward.


	10. A Northern Adventure - Bronn

Northern Adventures - Bronn of the Blackwater

Five men of the Night's Watch prepared a fire for later that night. Nightfort wasn't supposed to be manned at all, but these men were just passing by. They would be leaving for the Shadow Tower by morning.

Bronn snuck away and returned to his camp. Laurel led his crew of nameless, wannabe sellswords. Their employer was an awkward looking man by the name of Augustus. A rich lord who was hell bent on getting to Nightfort unharmed.

"My lord, there are five men from the Watch camping at the Nightfort till morning." Bronn helped himself to some meat.

"Are you certain that they aren't stationed there?"

Bronn and the men laughed. "No, my lord. Five men wouldn't be enough to hold a fortification… especially that one. Nightfort is just a ruin."

"No…" Augustus slumped against his tree.

"Why do you need to get to Nightfort?" Bronn noticed Laurel giving him a disapproving look. "Just curious." Bronn gave an apologetic shrug and got closer to the fire.

"I am collecting stories across Westeros, and I was hoping to find a published document recording the tale of the Night King at Nightfort."

 _A fool and his money are soon parted._ "Glad to be of service," Bronn said with a convincing smile.

"I've never liked you," Laurel growled.

"The feeling's mutual. Could you pass the beans?" Laurel shoved a cup of beans into Bronn's hands.

* * *

After a good night's sleep Bronn returned to Nightfort to see if the Watch had left. Smokey embers stood where the fire once blazed. Bronn waited a little to see if he could find any movement.

He moved slowly in the snow taking advantage of every hiding spot that crossed his path. He'd hate to have to battle five watchmen by himself. When he felt confident that he was safe he strolled to the campsite.

He couldn't understand why the men wore black. It was more masculine than wearing white, but you might as well be painting a bullseye on you wearing it in the snow. He looked around to see if there was anything that he could pocket for himself. He laughed to himself when he found nothing. There was nothing to steal from men who had nothing.

He checked the cold ruins. A chill ran up his back. _Looks good enough for me._ Bronn returned to the group and nodded to them. Augustus rushed ahead. "Careful lord. They might have forgotten something and returned. Best that you stick close to us."

Augustus frowned like a spoiled child, but de did what he was told.

Laurel and his men did a more thorough search. "We've checked everything that was above ground. You won't find any books here my lord."

"Above ground." Augustus looked optimistic.

"If you are going down there, you are going alone, and we want our payment now," Laurel demanded.

Augustus nodded. He counted out a few stags and dropped them into Laurel's hand. "If you get me back home there will be more. Possibly a dragon or two."

"We're not going down there," Laurel insisted.

"I'm not asking you to go down there. I'm asking you to wait for me." Augustus waited for Laurel to nod. "Good."

"Do I get anything extra if I go with you," Bronn offered.

"Bronn," Laurel snapped.

"It's fine Laurel," Augustus said dryly. He turned to Bronn and gave a slight nod.

Bronn smiled widely and winked at Laurel. There was a small hint of a skip in his step. Irritating Laurel was the fun part of the journey.

"You wouldn't mind if I had my sword drawn? There's something about this place that makes my skin crawl."

"Please do as you wish. You're not like the others. You can admit your cowardice… That's what I like about you."

Bronn smiled. "I'll do a lot of things for money, but I'm not a fool for it either." The wind blew out from the corridor that led down. Bronn took the torch from Augustus and lit the mounted torches that led the way down. When they got to the bottom he returned the torch back to Augustus. The smell was foul. The remnants of dead rats were scattered on the ground. Bronn took the legs off of a table and tore down a tattered banner that hung on the wall. He made a few torched of his own to help light their surroundings. "Well this isn't good."

The walls surrounding them had two archways embedded in them.

"Yes, they've made the catacombs for storage, escape paths and traps."

"My bet is on the most tread on path." Bronn pointed to the south facing arch.

"It's the exact opposite direction of where we need to go. Do you really think they would go through all that trouble?"

"We won't know unless we try it."

They walked quite a bit until they came across a glowing door with a wrinkled face on it. Its eyes were white and sightless. "Who are you?"

Bronn looked at Augustus who shook his head.

"Could you tell me about the Night's Queen?"

"She dwells in the north. Who are you?"

"If you could tell me more…"

"Who are you," the door reiterated.

"I'm commander Mormont," Bronn announced boldly.

The eyes shut and the glow of the door faded away.

"It was worth a shot." Bronn waited for Augustus to turn back. Bronn didn't like how Augustus was quiet. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like Augustus' next proposal.

And he was right. "We need a man from the Night's Watch," Augustus told Laurel.

Everyone groaned in unison.

"That is a crime punishable by death my lord. We can't kidnap someone from the Watch." Laurel looked at Bronn as if to blame him for Augustus' crazy idea.

"I'll pay ten dragons for a man of the Night's Watch." Some of the men whistled, but there were no takers.

"I'll see what I can do my lord." Bronn volunteered with much less enthusiasm this time. He'd have to kill Laurel and his men to prevent anyone from leaking the news that he had kidnapped a man from the watch.

He waited for night to fall. Sooner or later, someone would have to take a piss. Bronn smiled as he saw that it was one of the scrawniest of the bunch. He snuck up from behind and knocked the boy out cold. He dragged the body and covered up some of the tracks.

 _This would have been easier with a horse._

Augustus rushed towards the young man in black. "I need you to come with me to Nightfort."

The boy turned to Bronn. "Then just kill me already! I can't go in there! It's haunted!"

"We've been in there boy. It's not haunted. You've just got to speak to some face scrawled in a door." The boy looked at Augustus with confusion. The sooner we go in, the sooner we can leave. "If you do as I ask you can serve as my steward. No one needs to know you ran away from the Watch."

"I didn't run away," the boy said reluctantly. Bronn could see that the boy seemed a little more willing to cooperate.

This time, Laurel and his men came down to the catacombs. The boy was just as shocked as Laurel when the door spoke. After saying the vows of the Night's Watch, the door's mouth widened. On the other side was the sea of snow.

"You'll have to come with us boy. I won't remember all that." Augustus shoved the boy forward.

"You coming," Bronn asked.

"That… that is a suicide mission. We're done," Laurel gasped.

"Well it's been nice knowing you." Bronn shoved a knife in between Laurel's rib cage. He then proceeded to kill Laurel's men.

"What _are_ you doing," Augustus shouted disapprovingly.

"I can't have anyone know that I kidnapped someone from the Watch."

"I won't tell," the boy sobbed.

"I know you won't, but _they_ would have. Let's get going." Bronn cleaned his blades and returned them to their sheaths.

"What interest do you have in the north?"

"Just curious is all. Just wanted to know why everyone was so afraid of what stood behind the wall. If it were just wildlings, they wouldn't need to build it so damn high."

"They say giants and white walkers live beyond the wall," Augustus said as he watched the door close.

"I've heard some of the men say that they've seen giants." The boy shuddered.

"Well let's see if they were yanking your chain. Which way my lord."

"We should've gone up the wall. There must be a castle somewhere." Augustus said with regret. Bronn considered killing Augustus right there and then.

"There are no castles my lord, but there is Craster's Keep. Craster is an old man who knows much about the goings-on of the north. My lord, what is it that you are looking for?"

"Best not to ask, boy. Just lead us there." Bronn shoved the boy away from the wall.

They camped in the forest. Bronn hated feeling uneasy. The feeling never left him after seeing the face in the wall. "I'll be back. Need to take a piss." Bronn left behind the roaring fire. He had wanted a smaller fire to not attract so much attention, but Augustus griped that he was too cold.

Bronn felt relaxed as he let himself go, but he stopped short. He could feel the ground move. He crouched to the floor to look as if he were a mound of snow. He could hear Augustus and the boy scream in terror. Bronn snuck over to the camp and saw Augustus and the boy being picked up and slammed into the ground. _Giants!_ Bronn watched as the giants reduced the men to nothing but pulp. The fire was put out and the giants seemed bored. It was only a matter of time before they left. Bronn understood now why the wall had to be built so tall.

Digging through the pulp he tried to find what he was looking for. The red velvet pouch had flown a few feet away from the bodies. Bronn wiped his hands and took the pouch. He looked inside and groaned. He was hoping for something more exciting than a couple of dozen stags… He then noticed hints of gold underneath some of the coppers and stags. _Fair enough._


	11. The Master of Whispers - Varys

The Master of Whispers - Varys

Varys stumbled through the gutters. The rain blinded him just as much as the pain. He was lucky to have escaped. Normally, he would have been sold to a factory where he would live out his days toiling over combining fragrances that would sail off to the far reaches of the world.

He had escaped, but for what end? He cowered in a doorway and cried. The door swung open and Varys was tugged from the back of his shirt into the building. The dark abyss had swallowed him. With his nerves undone he fainted. There was only so much he could take in one day.

When he awoke, a gruff old man was piecing together a net. "You awake," he asked in a sour voice.

"They've already taken my…"

"I know your story!" He picked at the net angrily. "You'll be safe now. Once they've taken what they've needed they look for new blood."

"I heard a voice…"

"… in the fire."

Varys looked at the man carefully. "How do you know about that?"

"In due time. You'll need to relax and regain your strength. I'll give you three days, and then your toils truly begin."

Varys wanted to run, but he ached from the gash that was given to him. The voice still tormented him even in the gentle candle's glow. He blew out the candle and cried himself back to sleep.

* * *

Three days passed with very little said to him. It was a complete and utter mystery as to how the food managed to wind up on his small table. He never heard anyone slip in or out. The man entered the room and put the ointment down on the table. Varys took a better look at the man. The man had all of the typical Lysene characteristics except for the eyes. The shape of his eyes looked very much like a person from Yi Ti. "It's time for you to earn your keep." The man pulled a chair closer to Varys. "Do you want to stay on Lys?"

Varys shook his head.

"For that, you are going to have to do things you would never want to do." Varys could feel a deep pit developing in his stomach. "I need you to steal. Steal from rich or poor, but you will need to steal. We need to acquire as much money as we can so that we can leave this filthy island. Life might not be any better out there, but at least slavery doesn't exist in Westeros. They don't have the same crazy priests that are slinking into our city."

"But what if we get caught?"

The man gave him a very stern look. "If you think what that priest did to you was bad, you don't want to imagine what I'd do."

After giving Varys an overview, Varys changed into new clothes and followed the man. He was instructed how to steal, and was given a week's worth of practice. He was then let loose into the slums. He was given a red pill. He was instructed to leave it in his mouth but to not swallow it. Puck, his instructor, watched Varys at the sidelines. Varys remembered Puck's instructions and slipped a purse into his sleeve. Quietly, Varys slipped into hiding. The man hadn't noticed that his purse was gone. "Good, but someone did notice. Get some rest, we work tonight." Puck rarely spoke to Varys unless it was for instructions. Being complimented was quite a shock.

Varys put on some dark clothes and followed Puck. The city looked very different at night. Varys and Puck found their way to a gambling house. They climbed to the roof and they waited. But Varys wondered what it was that they were waiting for. "How can we steal from them if they put everything on the table?"

"Sometimes, these men fight, and sometimes it's to the point of death. We just pick up what they leave behind from the fight… Sometimes I'll go in when the fight is still going on. That's the best time to steal, but it's also the most dangerous time."

Puck wasn't much of a conversationalist. The only thing worth noting was that all of the people under the Old Man's employ were children who had escaped the cruelty of the sorcerers. In time, that novelty faded and Varys was easily prone to boredom. He moved in closer to listen to the men talk. His eyes widened when he heard the men talk. They were pirates negotiating a deal with some merchants. Piracy was punishable by death in Lys. These nightly chores brought them much wealth, but Varys was now more interested in the chatter at the halls rather than stealing from them.

"Varys, the Old Man wants to see us. Let's go." Puck took an empty basket as if he were going to work at the fishery.

"Coming," Varys chimed. As they walked, Varys felt uneasy and had regretted to bring the pill. He felt as though a pair of eyes were watching his every move. "Puck, something isn't right."

"Varys we'll need to split up," Puck said in a hushed tone. Varys agreed and they went their own way.

As soon as Varys turned the corner, he felt someone grab the back of his shirt. He was turned around and he faced a soldier. "Is this him?"

"Yes, my lord. He stole my lord's purse," a feeble old man replied.

"Why didn't you say anything to begin with. Why didn't you catch him right there?"

"I wasn't certain, and his lordship was very angry that day. I couldn't ask him to check without being hit." The old man suddenly seamed to remember the pain.

"You know what happens now, don't you," the soldier asked.

Varys didn't want to loose anymore than what he had already lost. "In exchange for my hands, I can give you information." The soldier laughed derisively, and took out his saber. Varys wet his lips. "I know who murdered the minister's son!" The soldier looked uneasy. He didn't know if he should trust Varys or not. "He was a young man wearing a blue silk tunic with golden suns on the day of his death."

"You will come with me," the soldier said. Varys was taken to a room while the soldier went to verify if the minister's son was wearing what Varys had described. Varys looked outside and saw the much desired Room of Reclamation that Puck had desired to filch from.

"Varys!" Varys turned around and saw Puck at the other window. "Puck!"

"Come on, let's go."

Varys shook his head. "Bring a few others, we'll steal from the reclamation room tonight."

"How? This place is crawling with guards?"

"They are going to be very busy elsewhere. Tell the Old Man."

Puck looked at Varys disapprovingly, but left all the same. Like a canary, Varys sung his sweet song to the soldiers. He elaborated and weaved his words elegantly as he spoke about what he had heard at his many midnight jaunts to the gambling hall. Several men scribbled down what Varys had said, but sometimes they would loose themselves in shock. Varys hid his smirk as the commander laid out his outline as to what his men would be doing that night.

Puck returned to Varys that night, his eyes bright with admiration. "How did you do it?"

"Do we set sail tonight?"

"Yes," Puck whispered excitedly.

"Then I'll tell you once on board."


	12. The Three Brothers - Renly Baratheon

The Three Brothers - Renly Baratheon

"My lord… Lord Robert has requested for you to come to the courtyard."

Renly held onto the corner of his book in annoyance. He flipped the paper with his thumb a few times and took in a deep breath. He closed the book and left the library to meet with his brothers below.

It was only a year ago that their parents had drowned by the rocks of the Dreadfort, but they had recovered from their loss now. They also lost Robert to the Vale, but Renly didn't mind it so much. In fact, he rather enjoyed the quiet days without his older brother. He couldn't wait for Robert's visit to end, but he also suspected that Robert had felt the same.

Renly stood off to the side as he watched his brothers pair off. Robert fought more with might than method, and the opposite held true with Stannis. However, Robert's strength and stamina won out in the end. Stannis sat on his butt while trying to steady his breath.

"All right Renly, it is your turn."

Renly's palms were sweaty. There would be no point in arguing with his brother. Robert never took no for an answer.

"Don't fight like a girl this time," Robert ordered.

Renly held the wooden sword in his hands and made a swing.

Robert dodged and smacked him on the bottom. "I told you to not fight like a girl. Come on Renly! Stannis and I knew how to swing a sword at your age. Stop reading those books and get some real experience!"

Renly held his stance and examined his brother. He feinted and then knocked Robert's knee with the sword.

Robert put his sword down and clapped. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Renly smiled, but only for an instant. Robert charged at him and knocked him on the ground. "Get off of me! You're heavy!"

Robert laughed as Renly struggled below.

"Now Robert, the princess doesn't like it when you manhandle her," Stannis jeered. "Get up. Let me fight you now. I can't be bested by my little brother."

Renly gave Stannis a thankful smile as Robert peeled off of him. "I'll be rooting for you Stannis!"

Stannis nodded and took up his sword. 


	13. Something in the Shadows - Stannis B

*** Many thank to Hannes Lund! I've corrected the story error. ***

Something in the Shadows - Stannis Baratheon

Stannis looked out of his window and his dark eyes focused on the impenetrable Highgarden ships below. The pangs of hunger were muted by the overwhelming sense of helplessness whenever he looked outside. He was responsible for the people inside and they were all starving. With each thought, his heart grew heavy. He reached out to pet his faithful wolfhound for some mild relief, but then he remembered that all of the dogs had been sacrificed so that he and his men would survive another day. He sat in his chair and took in a deep breath. He was tired of being frustrated, he was tired at looking at the people he was responsible for, and he was tired of being hungry.

He stood by the window, once more, to breathe in the salty air when he noticed a strange shadow coming ever closer to the caves. He spun around and grabbed his sword. He ordered the archers to be at the ready and then ordered the rest of his men to gather around him as they followed him to the caves. Beads of sweat formed along his temples. He couldn't imagine what the enemy was up to. He wondered why they only had one ship, a ship that was so unlike their own, sneak up to the caves. Was it a surprise attack? Was it a ship filled with explosives?

He approached the mouth of the cave with caution. Only a very skilled captain could have docked at the rocky shore, and this person had managed to do it. Stannis ordered his men to stay back as he cautiously approached what looked to be a single man.

"I am alone my lord. My men are still on the ship." The hushed voice sent chills up Stannis' spine.

"Who are you?"

"I am Davos… a smuggler. I've heard about your plight and have brought food. It's nothing much, but it should help you hold up against the Targaryen forces. I also bring good news."

"And what is that?"

"I have heard that the Lannisters have joined the rebellion. I know precious little of the circumstances, but if they have joined then the rebellion this should be over soon."

"How can I tell if you aren't telling the truth?"

The grizzly man seemed to be caught unawares. Cautiously he lowered himself to the box next to him. He opened the crate that was filled with onions. "Unfortunately, most of what I bring are onions. I could take a bite out of one of them if you like."

"How many men do you have?"

"Thirty, sir."

"Armed?"

Davos smirked, "We're smugglers my lord."

Stannis nodded grimly. His people were starving and he was taking a chance to have them all killed by letting this man in. "Get on with it," he thought to himself. He grabbed his keys and angrily unlocked the gate.

Davos cautiously set the box on the other side of the gate. "I will be back with more. I'll send my men in slowly so that you can see that we are no threat to you."

"Very good." Stannis returned to his men once Davos was out of sight. He instructed them to be on their guard and for the men on the wall to notify them of any other encroaching ships. Once everything was in, Stannis' men would sneak the goods into an inventory room so as to not raise anyone's alarm. The enemy shouldn't hear their shouts of joy when relief had finally come their way. Stannis, after all, was a very cautious man.

* * *

The siege was finally over. Davos was summoned to appear before Stannis, but Stannis had an unexpected meeting with Lord Eddard Stark. Davos took this time to whittle a stag.

"Davos, won't you come in?" For the first time since arriving, Stannis sounded friendly. There was even a faint smile on the eternally serious face. Davos smiled widely as he entered into the great hall. Lord Eddard and the maester smiled warmly at him.

Lord Eddard approached him and shook his hand. "So you're the one to thank for helping Lord Stannis to hold off the Tyrells?"

"It wasn't very much my lord. Just mostly onions." Davos blushed at being recognized for what he thought was a small effort.

"What was that you were doing out there?" Stannis asked.

"I whittle when I have time." He handed the stag to Stannis.

Stannis examined the piece. "It's fine work…" Stannis said as he rubbed the sculpture in his hands. He put the figure down on a table. He held Davos with a serious gaze. "Will you bow down to me Davos? Will you swear your fealty to me?"

"Of course my lord," Davos knelt in shock. He shuddered not knowing what was to happen next.

"I nearby knight you Ser Davos Seaworth of the Cape Wrath." Stannis tapped Davos' shoulders with his blade. "Rise, Ser Davos." Davos stood up and looked more shocked than grateful. Stannis turned and walked away from him, and with and spoke with a disappointed voice. "That said, you did practice piracy."

"No my lord. I am a smuggler, not a pirate."

"Either way, you have broken the law."

Lord Eddard stepped forward. "I think that mercy…"

"Mercy may be the way of you northerners, but this is Storm's End. A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad the good."

Davos nodded grimly. "You are right, my lord. I am ready to take my punishment."

"Put your hand on the table Ser Davos."

Davos tightened his lips and put his hand on the table.

"Stannis… please…" Eddard stepped forward and was about to stay Stannis' hand, but Stannis shot him a threatening look. Eddard looked at Davos who seemed to accept his fate. With a silent nod Eddard took a few paces back. Davos focused his attention on the stag to help him brace for the pain.

Stannis made sure that the blow was swift. Blood and a horrible scream cued the maester to step in and tend to Davos' wounds. Stannis poured some wine. "Will you be joining us for dinner Ser Davos?" He placed the goblet next to Davos.

"It would be an honor my lord," Davos said through gritted teeth.

"Take good care of him, Maester Cressen. Lord Stark, I'll see you on your way out."


	14. The Death Knell - Robert Baratheon

The Death Knell - Robert Baratheon

He never meant for any of this to happen. The light fog hid much of the tragedy, but even still corpses laid all around him. His men carried the wounded of both friends and foes alike to the side for the nurses and doctors to treat them. The day was won, but the cost was almost too much to bear.

He wondered if he was just as bad as his father, having brought so many deaths just for the sake of his own selfish love. He knelt down to aid a groaning man when he heard the shouts of his men. He looked up and saw a host had started to attack them. _Was this an ambush?_

Very few had approached him which gave him time to see the doom that was approaching him. At first, he thought he was readying himself for revenge. A giant man approached through the fog towering over all the rest, but then he saw the antlers that were molded on the helm appear through the fog.

He felt his chest shrink as he realized that it was the man whom Lyanna was betrothed to. A man whom he had no quarrel with but rather a great sense of debt. It was Robert Baratheon.

The great beast of a man held a giant hammer and was dressed in black and gold. He approached Rhaegar with palpable menace.

Rhaegar, for the first time in his life, wanted to run. "Rhaegar," he heard one of his men cry before his death. Responsibility washed over him that instant and he began his approach. Once Robert laid cold in the ground this would all be over. He could return to King's Landing, overthrow his father ending his tyrannical rule, wed Lyanna, and start a new line that forbade the incestual marriages from maddening his future line. He would save the world. To hell with the prophecy! _He_ would make himself the prince that was promised.

He wielded his blade and readied himself as Robert began his charge. He stumbled backwards, being unable to dodge in time for Robert's blow. He swore he could hear his own blade had cracked, but that was impossible. Valyrian never cracked. Valyrian would always beat iron.

He regained his footing and dodged the next blow. He landed his own onto Robert's shoulder. Rhaegar was surprised that Robert seemed to have no reaction to the pain that was dealt to him. Which was too bad as Robert swept his wounded arm to Rhaegar's side. Rhaegar fell to the ground and his eyes widened. Robert was too fast in his fury.

He could hear it: the sound of metal and bone being crushed, the sound of the rubies clattering on the gravel. It was the sound of his own death knell.

The light began to fade. There was so much he had to do. There was so much that he had promised. "Lyanna…"


	15. The Ugly Duckling - Brienne of Tarth

The Ugly Duckling - Brienne of Tarth

She loved her father very much, and she knew that her father felt the same for her. She felt just as much grief as he did when he caught her swinging a sword. Selwyn shut his eyes for a moment and then reopened them. An idea had struck him, but it apparently gave him little pleasure to voice it.

"If you must swing a sword, you must do it right." Brienne felt that her smile would break her face. She was just too happy. "However, if I am to teach you, you must also attend to our vassals' daughters. I want you to at least try to be a lady."

Brienne's smile faded along with the light in her eyes. She remembered how the girls would always whisper and whenever they were caught they would shoot up in panic. False smiles and flattery would ensue, but she knew they were talking about her. Ugly and awkward. She didn't feel right in a dress. While girls talked of the latest fashions, she was more interested in the armor and weapons being forged by the blacksmith. Instead of ballroom dances, she preferred to watch the dances done as swordsmen parried in the courtyard.

Hesitantly, she agreed to her father's terms. Spending time as someone she wasn't would be a hard sacrifice. She hated being judged, but she loved the idea of exploring this world that she had been denied of.

"Good. Now there will be a ball held in a few months time. I will need you to brush up on your dancing lessons."

Brienne felt her heart sink. "Must I father? They all laugh at me."

Selwyn looked at his daughter with a serious face. "You are a lady of a respected house. Our bloodline is even in the Baratheon line. Show them that you are so much more than a clumsy girl. You are a proud lady of Tarth who could hold her footing whether it be in the ballroom or on a battlefield."

"You're right father. I'll give my all to make you proud."

He smiled gently at her. "At least one of the Baratheons will be there. Do your best to do so."

Brienne felt the weight of her responsibility, but she did as she had promised. She had practiced with the other ladies with as much determination as when she was practicing with her tutor in sword fighting. She was exhausted from learning so much which was good. Anxiety had no place in her mind when she was busy and deep in sleep.

She took in a deep breath. The weight of her makeup felt almost as heavy as the dress. She held a handkerchief in her hand to dry her palms. She would soon be presented to Lord Renly, the master of balls and masquerades. She wondered how much she would disappoint him. _No! Like Master Luswell has said! Never go into battle with doubt!_ Brienne stood tall. She put her handkerchief away and proceeded to enter the great hall.

With each stifled snicker she could feel her armor being chipped away. Ahead of her was her father and the most beautiful man she had ever seen. She had lost the battle. She was a failure, she could feel it. The sweet smile that the lord was giving her must have some hidden amusement. _Yes. Have a fine look at the freak in the dress._

"Lord Renly, may I present to you my daughter, Brienne of Tarth."

"The pleasure is all mine," Renly said as he took up Brienne's hand. He kissed it which made her heart flutter. Selwyn looked at his daughter urging her to say something, but if there were any words in her head they were all lost in the chaos that stirred in her mind and body.

"It is all right my lord. I was once shy myself. If you will my lady, let us sit so that we can begin the feast."

Brienne nodded absently and proceeded to her seat. She couldn't eat. So much conflict stirred in her. She no longer feared how others looked at her, it was now all about being seated to the most handsome man she had ever seen. A man who seemed to ignore her as he talked to her father about public affairs. Bit by bit she regained herself. She consoled herself into reminding herself that this man would be gone soon and she would return to her celibate life. She never really cared about romance anyway.

Panic! Her heart raced as she heard the music play. She saw that the dishes were being removed from the table, and even the tables themselves were being moved out.

"I understand that you are shy, but the first dance must be given to the lady of the house." Brienne couldn't utter a protest as she was lifted from her chair. Just holding her hand alone, she felt compelled to do everything he had commanded. She didn't hear the small chat that he made as they danced. She felt herself move so effortlessly as if under a spell. She was a swan. When the song was over, he kissed her hand again and bowed. "It has been a pleasure my lady."

Brienne nodded as she watched him disappear into the crowd. She could feel the spell break. _It's over now._ Now she could be at peace.

"Excuse me my lady, but may I have the next dance?"

Brienne looked at the lord with confusion. Why would anyone dance with her? She noticed her father from the side of her vision. He urged her to accept. Brienne nodded to her father and then nodded to the lord. This time, she had to focus on her feet. She lost that effortless maneuvering she had with Renly.

She was starting to get tired of all of the dance offers. She was quite certain the makeup was melting away from her face. "My lords, if you will excuse me." She curtsied and moved to a room to have her makeup retouched. When she was done, she could hear the lords laughing.

"The Gods be damned for making such an ugly woman!" She heard one say.

"She would make a much better man. She isn't full grown and yet she's even taller than some of us," she heard another say.

"You're not far off there. I've heard that she's learning how to use a sword!" The men laughed in shock.

Brienne could feel hot tears tremble down her face, but then she felt a calm hand take hers. She looked at its owner. It was Lord Renly!

"My lady, if I could have another dance? No one else seems to capture the elegance of the art quite like you." Brienne could see it now. She wondered how she couldn't link up the lords' smirking lips as mockery, but Renly was different. He was actually sincere.

"It would be an honor," Brienne said with her back straightening. A renewed sense of power returned to her as she danced with this lord. This time she heard every word he spoke, and she was able to ignore all the others. If only she did notice them. That day the lords and ladies watched in admiration as they were the finest dancers in the hall.


	16. Queen of Thorns - Olenna Tyrell

**Queen of Thorns - Olenna Tyrell**

Lady Olenna watched her grandchildren play. Her favorite, Margaery, was the very center of attention. Beautiful, warm and clever she was everyone's friend, but their was still that glint of mischief in her eyes. She was far too bright to be some mere lady of a house. Olenna would do anything in her power to make Margaery queen some day. Even if it meant scraping for favors from that oafish king.

 _King Baratheon._ She wondered how it was, a man so vied for by all the ladies in the kingdom, the greatest warrior, a collector of the masses had been reduced to an eternally drunk and crass fool. And then there was the matter of his first born. Word had it, that the terrible twos had never been so terrible in the eyes of the maidservants who cared for the young prince. Even at a young age he took delight in seeing others suffer. He even laughed as he broke a young maid's skin with a fork.

 _We have replaced one mad lord for a drunk one. It seems we'll be falling back to a mad king again… But perhaps it is time for the Tyrells to come to the fore._ Her own son had proven himself to be nothing more than a disappointment, but Margaery… She was where she laid all of her hopes in. She returned to her needlework to discourage the smile that longed to reveal itself. Her smile was to never expose her plotting. When the urge had finally relinquished itself she summoned Margaery forward. Margaery's eyes always lit up whenever she was recognized by her grandmother. She ran to her grandmother's side. "Child, I will be gone for a while."

The light Margaery's eyes died. "Where will you go, grandmother?"

Olenna cupped her granddaughter's face. "I am going to Kings Landing."

"Can I come," Margaery gasped in excitement.

"Oh!" Olenna weighed the pros and cons of bringing her granddaughter, but decided against it. She would need to find the pieces for the game before she could bring her to the table. "You know that I always keep my promises. Next time my love." She poked Margaery's nose and took delight in the young girl's giggle.

"When you return, will you tell me stories then?"

"Not just stories! I'll bring you the finest gifts and then we can talk about all of that whats, the wheres, and the when for our next trip… but you'll have to leave your brother behind."

Margaery frowned at this. She was very close to her brother. In fact, she was overly protective of the young boy. "Loras will be fine in Highgarden, and you can tell him of all the fun things you will see. Besides, he has a duty as the future lord of Highgarden. We shouldn't distract him from his duties."

Margaery curtsied perfectly. "I am at your disposal grandmama."

Olenna smiled and stood up. "Play is as important as study."

"I study as I play." Olenna observed Margaery's smirk. Olenna didn't need to ask what she had meant. Margaery was always observing the other children: learning their weaknesses and strengths. She was also applying what she had learned from Olenna and appeared to be a quick study.

* * *

Olenna had to give credit to King Baratheon. Kings Landing was bigger than ever and much livelier. She took up residence at one of the finest inns. Money she had, and it served as a lure for the fish she had wanted to catch. Littlefinger was the most interesting catch of them all. All smiles and politeness but there was a dagger dipped in poison somewhere in his black soul. A competent wolf should always be able to spot its own kind. Littlefinger leant back in his chair, completely comfortable in her presence. "I've heard a great deal about you Petyr Baelish. Should I call you Master Baelish?"

"You can call me Littlefinger if it pleases you."

Olenna turned away to hide her concern. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was playing with her. She was always the cleverest person in Highgarden, but now she would be dealing with people on her own level… and possibly even above. "I think Baelish would please us both. Don't you agree?" She ignored his victorious smile and would move forward without fear.

"Whatever makes you feel more at home Lady Tyrell. I wonder though, if there is some sort of service that I could provide to one of the wealthiest women in the lands?"

Olenna scoffed. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I am a simple man without a claim to lands or family. I simply rely on others to retain my position."

"There is also money in information," Olenna decided to be bullish in the conversation.

Petyr smirked. "I suppose there is that too, but it is more curiosity and a desire to survive."

"Survive?" Olenna laughed. "I am only here to find my granddaughter a perfect present for her upcoming birthday. I don't see how that aids you in your survival. In truth, the real present is Kings Landing."

Petyr's eyebrow lurched. Olenna took it as a compliment that she had disarmed him. "Now I'm very curious."

"I don't know what you mean. I simply want to bring my granddaughter here to Kings Landing. She's been ever so curious about the capital."

"Which is why lords and ministers have come to visit you?"

"Well, why are you here? It has been the same with everyone else who has come to meet me."

Petyr leant forward. He was clearly amused, like a boy holding a flame, ready to light a town on fire. "Would it interest you to visit the king himself?"

Olenna wasn't prepared for such a meeting, but it would take much longer through other channels. "Such an odd offer," Olenna laughed. "I beg your pardon. I do not mock you, but I am just quite shocked. If the king would not mind it, it would be a great honor. I wouldn't know what to say."

Petyr leant back. "Sometimes it can even take as long as a month to arrange such a thing. I will try to arrange it soon though."

"For your kindness, Baelish, I would like to know what you would want in return?"

"I would appreciate it if you were to mention a bridge to the king. It's been hard for me to convince him of the need for it, but I think it will bring in more revenue into the kingdom. With his heavy spending, it's been hard keeping the treasury in the black. I'd rather not have to take up the black myself if the king were to learn that his coffers are nearing empty."

 _What is this boy really playing at?_ "It seems like a small price for a large offer. I will be in your debt."

"Perhaps you might run into Lord Tywin. He should be arriving in the next few days. Think of it! Two of the wealthiest houses meeting here at Kings Landing. There must be all sorts of gossip about what might lay in store." Petyr bowed slyly. "Forgive me for cutting our meeting short, but as Master of Coin I have to make my rounds."  
Olenna could swear that the man had winked, but she wasn't sure. As soon as the door closed she collapsed onto her couch. She could feel the sweat in her palms. That boy was very dangerous. She would need to figure out a way to limit her interactions with him.

* * *

Olenna was warned, before entering the palace, that the blissful matrimony as told in fairytales did not exist in the palace. Olenna could not help but feel insulted by Petry's warning. She, of all people, knew that a blissful marriage was rarer than chancing upon a competent lord in these days. Her heart did thump hard against her chest though. She didn't know what to expect as she walked down the hall. She could hear hushed whispers filled with venom. Perhaps she would be dining with vipers for the night. She entered the hall, and she saw the oldest man at the table clear his throat. The royal couple ceased and turned to look at her. They hadn't even bothered to give her a fake smile. Olenna bowed gracefully. "I apologize. Have I come at the wrong hour?"

"Not at all. Sometimes marital bliss cannot wait until a more private hour." She saw Cersei dart a hateful glare at her father.

"Agh! Enough of all that. Come here and have a seat! Start the meal procession," King Robert roared at his servants.

She noticed that the servants all had the same Lannister blond hair. _Too many Lannisters._ "This has been long overdue, my King. My son may have sent reparations for the damage we had caused during the rebellion, but I wish to formally apologize for role."

Robert seemed irritated that the matter was brought up at all, but then he had softened. "Lady Olenna, the war is over. It's under the bridge."

"You are a most gracious king to be sure," Olenna said in surprise. "My grandson will be sure to repay you with his obedience. Loras is growing up to be a fine boy. He has taken to the horse quite well and has spoken often of how he can't wait for his first joust."

Robert roared merrily. "That's what I like to hear! Boys eager to grow up to be boys. Not some damn tyrant." He shot a glare at Cersei.

"Well, at two years of age, we can hardly expect Joffrey to voice an opinion on that matter."

Olenna's eyes darted between the two but then laid on Lord Tywin. She could see the irritation building up in him. She had remembered seeing him when he was young. In his old age, he perhaps gained patience, but he most certainly wasn't going to hold out for long.

"Queen Cersei, I could be mistaken, but I think I hear the young prince in need of sustenance. Do you not hear him crying?"

Olenna heard nothing and she knew Cersei heard nothing either. Cersei stood up and looked at Olenna. "I apologize but I am needing to attend to my son. Do enjoy your stay at Kings Landing," Cersei said with a taught smile and a bitter voice.

As soon as she was gone Robert took to drinking. The man fell asleep in his chair while Tywin and her looked at each other in awkward silence. The poor man was pitiable. Olenna observed he clearly wasn't cut out for the responsibilities as king and he most certainly knew it.

"Perhaps this is for the best." Tywin said interrupting her thoughts. "Neither one of us have a good standing with the Martells. Perhaps we can work something out."

"I don't think I understand what you mean."

"There are rumors that the Dornish queen is pregnant. A marriage into the Dornish family would be advantageous for both of our houses."

Olenna scoffed. "You didn't think that when they offered their children to your two oldest children."

"I was in mourning."

"Are you not still?"

Tywin raised his eyebrow impatiently.

"We have already sent one of our own there and they returned him as broken goods. I won't send another to that gods forsaken land."

"So then you are uninterested in queening your granddaughter?"

 _Damn you Petyr!_ "You are being cryptic Lord Tywin."

"Should she birth a daughter, we will have her wed your grandson Loras. Should she bear a son, he will marry Margaery; and if my daughter would to bear a daughter she would be betrothed to your son Loras."

"Otherwise?"  
"The unclaimed lands to the east of Kings Landing will be yours."

"What am I to do with this land?"

"Then what is it that you would want?"

"I want my grandson to have a seat at the King's Council when he comes of age."

"Done," Tywin said with mild irritation.

Olenna noticed that Robert's eye was opened for only an instant and it immediately shut closed. The poor man was just watching the world go by as people plotted right in front of him, but this was for the best. It was time for the Tyrells to shine.


	17. Shadowbinder - Melisandre

Shadowbinder

The door spilled out a hazy light. Melisandre's eyes opened to see a shady figure approach. Lying on the stone cold floor she had hoped that death had finally come to claim her. She had spent three months in Asshai, but she never had the chance to see what stood beyond the four walls that she laid in. Bound, gagged, and blindfolded she was brought to this place. All she could hear was a foreign tongue and mention of Asshai during her trip to her bleak surroundings.

She hadn't any energy to get up, but the figure bent down offering a bowl of warm soup. Never before had she smelled anything more alluring. The man whispered eagerly. "Have this soup my child." He held up her chin and helped Melisandre drink down the soup.

Melisandre felt nourished and even energetic. She sat up and looked at the man, trying to make out his features, but he covered much of his face. All she could see were the yellowed and purple tinged teeth, his sallow pockmarked skin, and pale lips tinged with blood. "We will break you and you will die a thousand deaths… and then… you will be reborn as something to be feared and worshiped. You will bring people down to their knees and be a voice for the Lord of Light." Melisandre shivered as he spoke. "And you have no choice in the matter," he laughed darkly.

She screamed inside as her body moved by this man's command. She got up on a horse and followed him through the pale grasses steeped in mist. The grass was the only source of light as the moon's light would not touch the city.

They trekked the sinuous path to their destination. Cages of thousands formed to make a circle. Beyond the circle, a walled city stood and beyond that she saw the illusions of dragons sweeping the night's sky.

As they approached closer she could see that the cages were filled with other children, some younger than her. They all sat obediently looking at the center of the circle. Melisandre dismounted and walked to the center where robbed figures waited for her. She stood in front of the one seemed to be their leader. He smiled and tore off her dress. She knelt down with her eyes never leaving his.

It happened so quickly. The dagger was jeweled in rubies embedded in a golden hilt, and it was dipped in her blood and flesh. Even despite this her eyes never left his. He pushed her to the ground.

Melisandre could only watch as they tortured her and did things to her that should've had her killed. They introduced fire, steel, poison, and more to her body. The madness would have claimed her but then there was a white ball of healing light that blinded her from the events surrounding her.

"You are now _my_ child, a child of the light. Pass my trials and represent me, your god and eternal flame. Come to me in darkness. Offer me the false gods. Take them and cast my light upon them. For the night is dark and full of terrors."

She awoke to see the hooded figures chanting. The leader approached her with a black hexagonal chain with a single ruby embedded into it. He stepped back. Melisandre stood up and walked into one of the cages and sat. Then it began again, the long torture of another candidate. She saw many rejected and others withstood the agony some quicker than others. She couldn't remember how many days had passed with her sitting and watching the rituals, but finally, the cage doors opened. In unison, the enslaved stood up and walked to the city wrapped in stone.

A warm light engulfed them as they approached the opening stone doors. It was when the doors closed that the warmth was lost and everyone returned to being self-aware. They looked at their surroundings in horror. Black rocks pierced through ruins of a once great city.

Melisandre's eyes widened as she saw dragons rest on the precipices of the mountains. They eyed them with intense interest. It wasn't that they were hungry, but they were waiting for the show that they were about to see. Then it began. She could hear the screams of her peers.

She breathed heavily at first, but then realized all that she had gone through before coming in. She could hear a soft laugh in her head. "Very good, child. You have passed my trial."

The chain turned gold and then tightened around her neck. Others rushed to the door, but she continued into the city. Skeletons ripped through the flesh of others, but those that attacked her would dissolve into ash as they approached her. Once again a warm light encompassed her and the doors opened again. She looked at the city one last time and then turned around and walked out. Out of the thousands that were sent through the city's walls, less than fifty returned to the robed figures who now knelt before them. Melisandre said nothing and approached a horse. She found the others were doing the same, but wasn't surprised. Somehow she knew that they all knew what they needed to do. She would return to Asshai and hone her craft while the others would gather more to their flock. One day, Azor Ahai will find her and together they would serve the Lord of Light.


	18. Waking the Dragon - Daenerys Targaryen

**Waking the Dragon - Daenerys Targaryen**

Ever since last year, the year that they sold their mother's crown, crown Viserys' mood had darkened. He was becoming more of a tyrant with each passing day. Today, she had riled him up when she tripped and fell on his cloak. The ripping sound triggered Danny's flight. She could hear his footsteps quickening behind her. She knew the drill as she slid under a fence and snuck into a barn.

She wasn't familiar with her surroundings because they were always on the move. Danny hid in a bale of straw. Her brother stayed a while and cursed as he looked through the stalls. He screeched, "Horse sh…."

"Your grace, we must be on the move. Where is your sister," Reiber, their servant, asked.

"I don't know… and I don't care. Look at this! I'm a pauper with my torn cloak and filthy boots!"

"Your grace, when you are king you will have things… Things that are much finer than what you have now. To become king, we need to use everything to our advantage. Your sister is important… think of her her as an asset!"

Dany smirked. Reiber always thought of ways to tame the dragon.

"She's somewhere around here. I'm not going to waste my time looking for her." Dany waited a bit longer. She could hear Reiber sifting through the stalls calling her. It was just a game for them. He knew she would pop out of hiding after she felt that Viserys was long gone.

Dany tapped on the wood of the stall that she was in. Reiber smiled at her with a hint of disapproval. "Now what have you done, my lady?" "It was an accident…" Dany began.

Reiber sighed. "It always is, child. Your brother has so many responsibilities and few of us to help him. It will get better when he is on the throne, but for now… avoid him as much as possible."

"Reiber…" Dany and Reiber lost their breath. The voice was soft as silk, but venomous as a viper's.

"Your grace," Reiber whispered and got on all fours.

"Oh, no Reiber. That isn't necessary. Come now, we shouldn't be late." Viserys' voice had change to be as sweet as summer wine.

Reiber stood up cautiously. It could have been her imagination, but she thought she saw the whip lashes on his back quiver. Neither one of them were fooled by his sudden mood swing. Danny wanted to hold Reiber's hand to comfort him.

They had returned to their small caravan where Caleborn, their sole warrior and disciplinarian waited for them. "Your majesties, there has been word of a small band of assassins have been trailing us a few leagues behind. We must move at once."

"Don't tell _me_ what to do," Viserys' hissed.

"Then we should battle these assassins?" Caleborn was clearly tired of Viserys' moodswings.

"Certainly not, but I think there is time for a quick execution."

Dany, Reiber, and Caleborn froze upon hearing Viserys' words. Dany's mind whirred as she thought of all the memories she had with Reiber. Tears streamed down her race, but then an idea was born in her mind. It was like a small flame that soon engulfed her entire mind and soul. Before Viserys could give out his command to execute Reiber Dany flexed her chest. She took a strong stance and she looked at Viserys with a piercing glare. "Go ahead and kill me! You are no king, but a coward! A worthless and useless coward!"

Viserys calm and proud face turned red as he stormed towards his sister. " _Now_ you have woken the dragon!" Viserys plunged his foot deep into her gut and he began to beat her back. Dany closed her eyes and the pain was no more. She had lost herself into the sanctuary of unconsciousness.


	19. Something to Come Home To - Catelyn S

Something to Come Home To - Catelyn Stark

Catelyn was in her own little world as she thought of each of her children with mirth. Robb, her eldest, with fiery red hair of the Tullys, but the demeanor of her husband. She couldn't ask for anything better. Sansa, fair and skilled in the arts. Any man would have her. Then there was the rebellious Arya, she is a child. In time she would learn to behave as a lady. Bran, still so young but filled with adventure and wisdom, and finally Rickon just a babe in a basket. Eddard would be coming home soon after a month long tour of the north.

Catelyn moved as if she were in a dance as she changed out the linens and laid out the table. The hearth was at full blast, but she desired the warmth of the candle's glow. The candles danced next to an arrangement of flowers.

Eddard would be exhausted from his journey. He had visited each lord under his command to see how winter preparations were coming along. She was determined that he would come home to a room full of smiles, warmth, and beauty. Perhaps it was because she had just brought Rickon into the world, but she kept thinking of all of the happiest memories that she has had with her husband.

"Mother?" She turned to see Robb was looking at her with concern.

"Never mind me dear boy. I am mad with delight. Forgive me this one time!" She quickly rushed over to Robb. "What do you think? Will father not be happy?"

"He will be happy to see us. Should I bring the others?"

"Please. I've just received word that your father is to be arriving soon."

"Then I don't have a moment to loose," Robb laughed and strode off handsomely.

"He is so much like his father at that age," she whispered in amazement.

Robb returned back with the entirety of the Stark family… the entirety… The mirth and song that played in Catelyn's heart came to a halt. The dark curly hair, pleading eyes, the face that seemed to spell out the Stark name the most out of all of her children. Even she recognized it. There was a mixture of Rickard's, Brandon's, and Eddard's features in that boy's face… with only faint traces of that damn whore from the south. He would pose a threat to Robb's place as Lord of the North.

"Well isn't this a surprise," Eddard gasped as he embraced his family. The children enjoyed the surprise as they embraced their father. "My love, I thank you for preparing all of this for me." Eddard said as he waved across the room.

"Of course," she said as she blushed. The spark of love reignited as she urged him to take a seat at the table.

Everyone sat down: Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran. Her smile waned as she realized her husband was not happy. "What is it dear?"

"It is nothing," Eddard said quietly as he ate in silent disappointment.

Robb too ate with silence and there was a hint of annoyance in his countenance.

 _No! This isn't what I wanted! What went wrong?_ She looked around the table wondering what it was that upset her husband son… and even Arya had glanced at her with cold disappointment!

"May I be excused. I wish to finish eating in my room," Arya asked.

"Me too father," Robb said in almost a whisper.

"You're dismissed," Eddard said without looking at them.

Robb and Arya took their plates, but Catelyn realized that they weren't going to their rooms. They were going outside.

Slowly it all came together. Despite all that she did to create the perfect feast she was met with a cold silence. She had forgotten a seat for Jon and, to make matters worse, the boy had snuck out before the whole debacle began. She could have easily apologized and have sent for more silverware, but the boy had to make it all the more awkward by slipping out. Although, she wondered in bitter silence: _Is it not enough that I allow this boy to live side by side my own? Must he dine with us at every meal? How many other women have dined with another woman's bastard?_ Her appetite was ruined. She allowed her husband, Sansa, and Bran to finish. They left her alone in the hall where she had put all of her heart in just only moments ago.


	20. Envy - Sansa Stark

**Envy - Sansa**

Sansa's eyes shimmered as a host arrived from the Vale. Soldiers never looked so handsome, and what was more, they wore blue _silk_ capes. How luxurious! She clutched onto her doll with excitement as she looked for her great uncle who was held up by one of the vans which had gotten stuck in the mud. If this was the host that he travelled with he must be just as marvelous.

Her imagination was disappointed. Instead of the red haired, cultured sophisticate, her eyes met with a man in dark armor, stark white hair, and a gruesome face. There was no one else that could possibly be named the Blackfish, but him. Her mother confirmed it as she glided towards the old man.

She watched the two embrace with so much disappointment. When her great uncle approached her, she smiled politely and curtsied.

"By the gods! She looks and acts just like you when you were little, Cat!" He picked her up, to her displeasure. "You two are _very_ alike," he laughed and put her down.

"Sansa! Don't be rude," Catelyn scolded.

"I'm sorry uncle."

"Ah!" Her uncle waved lightheartedly. "Go and be a child. Do whatever it is that girls do at your age."

Sansa curtsied and excused herself. She slipped into the hall where cases were being opened. So many beautiful things were stored in these cases. Her aunt had sent the Blackfish to Winterfell to return what was left of Catelyn's old things to her. She was glad that she did. Her eyes feasted on the silks and the jewelry, but what really fascinated her were the tapestries and paintings. The people featured in them were lavishly dressed and stood amongst a picturesque background. Her finger traced one of the tapestries as she was completely spellbound.

"Sansa dear! It's time for sewing lessons," her septa chimed.

"Just one more moment please," she whispered as her eyes looked on to another tapestry.

"It is exciting isn't it? Look at the stitching on this one," Septa Mordane gasped. "Such skill! I could certainly learn a thing or two from the Vale."

Sansa's infatuation slowly began to eat away at her. It was no longer admiration that filled her heart. She looked at the hall, the servants, her septa, and then her dress.

"Sansa? What is wrong," she vaguely heard her septa ask, but she ignored her as she stepped out of the hall. The guards' of Winterfell wore dark and old armor. Winterfell itself was covered in vines and was in disrepair. She let out a whimper and quickly rushed up the stairs of one of the towers. She looked out, from the top window and realized she was in a realm of poverty. There wasn't a single redeeming quality that she could think of.

She looked at her tired old doll, that her father had bought for her last year. It's face was dirty, and some of its hair was missing. _I'm filthy!_ She looked at her clothes again. _I'm poor!_


	21. The Wild Horse - Ayra Stark

**The Wild Horse - Ayra Stark**

Ayra pricked her finger with her sewing needle. Her young hands had many battle scars from her needlework. She didn't see the point in any of it. The frilly designs looked pleasant enough, but not pleasant enough for her to toil over it. She watched Sansa hard at work. It always seemed like a duty for Sansa to try to make all things beautiful in Winterfell.

Her attention was drawn to the sound of wooden swords being smacked about. It would be Bran's first day to practice swordsmanship. "I need to pee," Ayra said coldly.

Septa Mordane gave her a reprimanding look.

"Please?"

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. Did you say you needed to visit the wash closet?"

"Uh yeah that," Ayra said with annoyance and practically threw her things down on her seat.

"Say it properly Ayra," Septa Mordane called out, but Ayra had already turned the corner. She slipped into a room with a good view of the courtyard.

Down below, Bran was being instructed on his stance and how to hold the sword. Bran seemed to have little interest in it. She looked at him haughtily. She would have loved to learn how to fight with a sword instead of sewing flowers and designs for Septa Mordane. _Why do boys have all the fun?_

Jon caught her eyes. He looked at her with a disapproving look, but with an added brotherly smile. Ayra pouted and stood away from the window. Fortunately, it was only Jon who spotted her. Robb or any of the others would have ratted on her for being away from her lessons.

* * *

Ayra sat on the cold steps that lead to the Godswood. Hardly anyone went that way unless they were a Stark. She needed to be alone. She hated being different from all the other girls and being told that she was always wrong. There had to be a way out of this restrictive life.

"I've overheard Septa Mordane complaining to your mother that you haven't been paying attention to your lessons."

Ayra jumped in shock. Her brother always moved so stealthily.

"Needlework, playing the harp, calligraphy, manners… what's the point in all of it?"

"Calligraphy could come in handy."

"I know my letters," Ayra said with annoyance.

"So you can read?"

"I can. I even have a favorite story. Can _you_ read?"

"Not well, I confess."

Ayra knew that Jon would have made a great lord, but her mother would not let him learn anything that would allow him to touch matters of politics. Jon was no threat. Jon wanted to always "stay in his place," which vexed Ayra terribly. Sometimes she wanted to to yell at her brother to grow a backbone.

"Jon, you're lucky."

Jon laughed sardonically. "I'm lucky?"

"You can do what you want and come and go as you please."

"It's not as easy as all that," Jon laughed. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the stillness together. Jon was first to break the silence. "Perhaps you can ask father for riding lessons. I think you would like riding a horse."

"I never really thought about riding a horse," Ayra said as she tried to imagine it.

"Maybe we could get a little archery in there as well…"

Ayra's eyes widened and she swung herself around Jon's neck. "I could never ask for a better brother!"

"We'll just keep this between ourselves," Jon said sternly.

Ayra nodded excitedly. "I will!"


	22. In the Absence of Sleep - Rickon Stark

**In the Absence of Sleep - Rickon Stark**

"Awoooooo!" Catelyn's eyes shot open as the sound of howling woke her up. She got up and nearly had a heart attack. Eddard was sitting up in bed, half awake. He had just gotten back from his tour of the north. He should have been lost in a deep sleep, but instead he was sitting there.

Catelyn could see he was trying hard to get the energy to see what was going on, but instead she comforted her husband and told him that she would take care of the matter. The howling certainly wasn't from a wolf or an animal. It was clearly from a child.

After tucking Eddard back into bed and stuffing his ears with some batting, she went into the hall and discovered the sound was coming from Rickon's room. All of the children were outside their doors looking confused about what was going on in Rickon's room. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"Why is he howling mother," Sansa asked with an edge of irritation.

"Sansa, I know as much as you do. Please go back to bed." She saw Sansa huff and close her door curtly. Rob gave his mother a look which told her that he wished her good luck.

She lit a candle and went to the small bed where Rickon slept. Rickon was paddling his arms and legs as if he were a dog. He was moving so furiously she wondered how it was that he hadn't woken himself up. "Awooooo!"

She sighed and picked up the boy and held him in her arms. Rickon struggled to break free from her grasp. A low growl preceded a harsh bight on her shoulder. "Rickon!"

She put him down on the bed. He looked up at her and rubbed his eyes. As best as she could understand toddler speech, she thought she heard him whining about being woken up. "Rickon, what were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing," he whined. "I want to sleep."

"Go ahead then." After seeing him return to sleep, she too returned to bed to sleep.

* * *

It had been a week and Rickon, without fail, would wake them up each and every night with his howling. When he was awake, he could never recall what he was dreaming about. Rob would go about his daily routine running into things, Sansa remained in her room (she wouldn't allow anyone to look at her sleep deprived face), Ayra was even more difficult to handle, and Bran would just compensate for the loss of sleep by sleeping during the day. Little Rickon was full of energy as he ran about scaring the chickens in the courtyard. Eddard looked out the window, with a bottle of Autumn Ale in hand. His eyes looked about wondering what he could do to cure his son from his nightly hauntings.

Catelyn gripped her hands as Jon entered the room. "My Lord…" Jon had gone to see a shaman to see what could be done to help Rickon. Jon was clearly shocked to see the transformation of Eddard and Catelyn who had not slept since the howling began. "Jon… please… I have so little patience. What did the woman say?" "She has given me these packs to burn in his room at night. This should stop any spirit from inhabiting Bran's body at night."

"By the gods…" Catelyn snapped.

"It is worth a try," Eddard said with equal irritation. "We'll try it, if it doesn't work, what then?"

"More importantly, is it safe," Catelyn hissed.

"It also makes for a good tea." Catelyn looked at Jon with distrust, which he had expected. A servant had entered the room right on cue and brought a warm mug with a kettle. The servant set the tea and gave it to Jon who drank the contents. "Catelyn stormed off while Eddard nodded at his son. "You've done good. We'll try it tonight."

Jon was given permission to sleep in Rickon's room as the herb packet burned. Rickon slept peacefully, and so did he. Apparently they had both slept through another sleepless night for Eddard, Cately, Rob, Sansa, and Ayra. Now it was Bran that was howling.

Eddard finally had found relief when he had heard that his brother Benjen was traveling south to find new recruits. Benjen looked at his brother in shock. "What happened to all of you?" Benjen noticed that Catelyn also looked ragged. Benjen listened to his brother's troubles and seemed familiar with this tale. "Mormont had told me he had received word from his home. A shaman had travelled by and had done the same thing to their family. She wanted money to cure the family. All you have to do is drink some herbs and the curse would be reversed.

"Jon had found this shaman."

"Good, we should be able to arrest her."

"We still have some of the herbs."

"Then I'd advise everyone in your household to drink it. Otherwise, you won't be getting much sleep."

"Let me help you." Eddard said as he stepped forward.

"I'll make sure justice prevails, not revenge brother." Benjen winked at him and exited the hall.


	23. Silence in the Godswood - Robert Stark

**Silence in the Godswood - Robert Stark**

Rob sat in the godswood waiting for it to happen. His hand gripped one of the weirwood's roots as he leant his back against it. He remembered as kids, Jon had told him that the trees would speak to him. Now that they were older, Jon brushed it off as just a child's imagination. Rob accepted Jon's logic, but recent events made him feel otherwise.

He was sent to find Ayra since she had been neglecting her studies with her septa. He thought he had seen her slip by the way of the godswood and decided to take a look. Sure enough, Ayra was there, but so was Old Nan and little Bran. They were looking at the weirwood tree.

"What are you three doing here," Rob asked.

"I'm so, sorry my lord, but the Ayra insisted that we come here with Bran."

"He wouldn't understand," Ayra murmured as she put Bran's hand on the tree. Bran let out a gasp, and for an instant, Rob thought he saw something in Bran's eyes. Bran's eyes were no longer bright and curious, but somehow his countenance conveyed unlimited knowledge.

"See Bran, the trees speak to you. They sometimes speak to me too."

Rob knelt down to look at Bran. The sagacious look was gone now, and Bran flexed his hands as if he wanted Rob to pick him up. "What do they say Ayra?"

Ayra shrugged. "All sorts of things, but most of the time I don't understand. The trees tell me that one day my face will change a thousand times!" Ayra seemed so excited by this foretelling, but the idea made Rob shudder.

"Why did you bring Bran?"

"Because they asked me to. Bran is going to be very important one day. I don't see _why_." Ayra wasn't one to hide her jealousy.

"Well I'm to escort you to Septa Mordane."

Ayra whined and stomped her foot. "She won't teach me anything that's useful. I'll be the girl with a thousand faces and she'll just sew flowers into a handkerchief!"

"Ayra… Let's not displease mother."

Ayra hated being scolded by her mother all the more it seemed. She stomped her foot one last time and lead the way back to her septa where Sansa was sewing with her friends. Rob stepped through the doorway. "Septa, I'd like to borrow Sansa for a moment." Everyone seemed shocked by this request. The brothers hardly ever talked to Sansa and vice versa. There was a strange disconnect between her and the rest of her siblings.

"Septa, may I be excused," Sansa asked.

"Of course my dear."

Rob bowed to the girls to excuse himself. He heard them giggle before Sansa shut the door. "… Is there a problem?" Sansa was more curious than concerned.

"Have you ever heard the godswood speak to you?"

Sansa rolled her eyes. "You interrupt my day with child's tales?"

"Sansa, Jon told me, when we were boys, that the trees spoke to him. Now Ayra is saying the same thing, and Bran… I just can't explain…"

"Rob…" Sansa put her hand on Rob's arm to calm him. "Ayra probably heard Jon talk about hearing the trees talking to him. You know how much Ayra loves Jon. She wants to be him in every single way so she made up that story."

"I don't think you would be so sure of yourself if you had seen the look on Bran's face."

Sansa studied her brother's face for a moment. She sighed as she gave in to her curiosity. "Fine, let's go to the godswood." Upon arrival, Sansa gave a quick study of the tree and then grew bored of it. "So what am I looking for?"

"Do you hear anything?" Rob pressed her hand against the tree and he pressed his other hand to the tree as well.

"Other than rustling leaves and the wind," her voice was filled with irritation. "If you must go mad, go mad alone. I'll stay in the real world and practice to become an _adult_." She stormed away leaving Rob alone in the godswood. He could hear Sansa shouting at someone and then he saw who she was yelling at. Jon had entered the forest looking at Rob.

"Sansa said you are hearing voices?"

Rob rolled his eyes. "Jon... Ayra and Bran were here this morning. Did you ever tell Ayra about the weirwood talking to you?"

"I've told Ayra all sorts of things. I couldn't remember to be honest," Jon laughed.

"Take off your glove and touch the tree."

Jon raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told.

"... and?"

Jon looked at Rob as if he were crazy. "Rob... maybe you need to..."

 _"Sit down!"_ Robert leant up against the tree and shut his eyes. "Sansa thinks I'm crazy and now _you!_ Let me tell you what happened this morning." Robert retold the story to Jon while staring ahead. He had tried to loose himself in a sort of meditation hoping to hear the trees speak to him.

"Well, I don't hear them anymore... if I even ever heard them. I don't remember Rob, I'm sorry." Jon looked at Rob who still seemed troubled. "Perhaps if we get drunk enough we'll not only hear the trees but we'll also hear from the mead..."

"Oh shut up!" Rob laughed. "Fine, let's see if we can sneak down for some mead."

After being scolded by his mother for drinking their stores of mead, Robert went up to sleep. The sound of rustling leaves woke him up. Robert looked around and didn't see anything that would have made the noise so he raced to the godswood. Excitement filled him to the marrow. It was like being accepted to some secret society and he was finally chosen to join the ranks with his siblings. He froze upon the sight of a naked woman who traced her fingers across the water. The weirwood shook hard from the force of the wind.

There was an ethereal air to this woman who stood before him. "Who are you," Robert asked cautiously.

"Are you a Stark or are you a Tully?"

Rob's eyebrows crossed in confusion. "... I am both."

The woman laughed. "They do not feel that way."

"They?"

She looked at him with disdain. "Too much of that woman's countenance is in you... and so is that southern air."

"I don't know who you are, but you'll need to put some clothes on. If we are found together..."

The woman laughed. "See, that's the Tully in you." She waved her hand at him. "A Tully worries what their mother would think of them. A true Stark, like Ayra, would have run a sword through me. Jon and Bran would have already guessed that I am a messenger from the godswood and would have asked more about our ways... but a Tully hides behind a woman's skirt."

"I hide behind no one," Robert growled.

"Better, but still not good enough. Before your second winter the gods have decided that they will unseat you."

"Unseat me?" Robert realized the woman must be mad. There was no way to unseat him if he wasn't a lord. "I've had enough of your nonsense. Be gone before I order the guards to throw you in jail." Robert turned, but the woman stood before him once more. She laughed and shoved him to the ground. Upon impact his eyes opened to see that he was back in his room. Sweat matted his hair and his heart was racing. He sat up and saw movement in the corner of his room. Leaves twirled around and round in the shadows. He shut his window and crushed the leaves in his hands. _It was only a stupid dream._ He decided, that night, he decided it was time for him to put his imagination to bed.


End file.
